


Craving

by virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural, Twilight (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Dean Cullen, Emotional, High School, Hot Sex, Hunter Sam, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Obsession, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, Vampire Dean, Voyeurism, lite blood play vamp style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 117,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester is sent to the rainy, cold, small town of Forks and is prepared to be bored to death until he meets and is fascinated by Dean Cullen. The hunter in Sam knows something is “off” with the Cullen boy but he can’t make himself care. Dean is equally enthralled by Sam but is leery because there is a good chance he will end Sam’s life. There are a thousand reasons why the hunter and the vampire should never get together, but who is listening?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)  
>  Lovely manip by mkitty3
> 
> Co-written with Lady Fetish

Sam stood outside next to his car, a 1967 Chevy Impala, black. It used to be his father's, but now, it was his. He still couldn't believe that his dad was pawning him off on some distant aunt he had never met before. He understood that his dad’s hunting trip was going to be a long one and that he wouldn't be able to let Sam attend school because he’d be on the constant move, but still, he didn't have to simply abandon him to this aunt whoever, did he?

John stepped out the motel room door and went to his truck, loading the last of his gear before turning to face Sam. He held out a large slip of paper, a computer print out of an address and directions. "I know you don't know Aunt Cathleen, but she's a good woman, and she'll take care of you while I'm gone." 

"But, Dad, I don't..." Sam sighed and nodded. There was no point in arguing. When John Winchester made up his mind about something, he wasn't going to change it. No matter how much he argued, begged or pleaded. Looking down at the paper, Sam quirked a brow. "Washington state, Dad?" he asked before looking back at his Dad, "You're sending me to Washington state?" Guess he was saying goodbye to the sun too. Washington state was definitely not going to be as sunny as California was... or Kansas had been, or even South Dakota.

John nodded, “Aunt Cathleen lives in a small town called Forks."  
 _Forks. Lovely._ Sam tried not to roll his eyes. "Yeah," he mumbled, "Okay."

John nodded as he looked at Sam, "Drive safe, and call me when you get there. I won't be around to call a lot after that, but, I do wanna know you made it okay."

"Yeah, Dad. I will." 

John nodded, then the two stood looking awkward for a few moments, before they hugged, neither was sure who initiated it, but it really didn't matter. It was quick, but they both knew they loved and cared about it other, no need for girly chick-flick moments to linger. John patted Sam on the back. "You'll be fine. You might even like it there."

Sam turned and started toward the Impala's driver side door. Yeah, sure he'd like it there. Probably about as much as he liked to be kicked in the balls, but, whatever. 

** 

Sam decided to take the scenic route to Forks, Washington. He'd always wanted to see the coast. Actually see it, without being set to hunt some supernatural whatever, so he drove along the coast to get there. Sure it added a good day to the driving, but it wasn't like he was in a real big hurry to get there anyway. 

Soon enough, too soon really, Sam was pulling up into the driveway of the small house. "Oh great. So small there's no way I won't be bumping into Aunt Cathleen every freakin moment," he sighed as he turned off the car and opened the door. "If she pinches my cheeks, I swear to god I'm leaving." he muttered under his breath.

Even from the kitchen, Cathleen Wood's sharp ears heard the car pull up the drive. Wiping her hands on the dishtowel, and patting her steel gray hair pulled tightly into a bun, she all but marched to the front door and tugged it open. A few more steps, and she was at the edge of the porch, staring down the tall young man. "So you're John's boy. It took him long enough to tell me he had one," she said gruffly, almost as if she blamed the youth.

Sam eyed the old woman before him, before he dropped his gaze, "Yeah, he never really mentioned you either." He shifted his weight nervously, glancing over his shoulder at the car, then looking back at this woman who was apparently his aunt. "Uh, I only have one bag. Should I... I mean, do I have a place to put my stuff?"

"Well I didn't invite you here to have you set up house on the porch, did I? Get your gear," she nodded. "Place is bigger than it looks. Hurry up, this drizzle is going to turn into a downpour." Pushing the door open wider, she watched him. John's boy. Other than his coloring, he didn't look a bit like her nephew. 

Sam popped the trunk of the Impala, careful to stand where the woman wouldn't see all the hunting gear he had stashed inside. Amulets, tools, guns, bags of rock salt, and other useful items filled the trunk, but his bag lay on top, so it wasn't as though he needed to dig around. 

Grabbing the bag, Sam closed the trunk and walked back toward the door, glancing up at the gray sky. Yeah, the sun was a definite goner. Damn it. With a sigh he walked up onto the porch, and remembering his manners, stopped by his aunt. "Uh, thanks... for letting me stay," he told her, making sure to leave off the part he added in his head, _'even if I would rather shoot off my foot.'_

She didn't blame him for his reluctance, and had to give him a few points for politeness. Teens these days... Giving him a nod, she lead him inside the little parlor. To the right, she showed him where the sitting room was, with a nice sized television and a big basket with her knitting wools and needles. The wooden floors squeaked slightly as they walked down the hallway and she pointed out the kitchen with an old fashioned woodburning stove right next to a modern one, that she hardly used. "I'll have dinner for you, but I get out of the house far too early to be cooking your breakfasts."

Sighing slightly, she showed him the rest of the downstairs, including her bedroom, a spare room and a bathroom. "I told you it's bigger than you thought," she almost smirked. The house was narrow, but seemed to go on forever depth-wise. "You can choose between this room and," she nodded at the stairs. "The room upstairs has its own bathroom, but if you go up there, mind your head. Its got slanted ceilings and wasn't built with giants in mind." It gave her a strange satisfaction to see her grandnephew was tall, but she had a point about the ceilings.

Sam glanced toward the stairs, half wondering if they would hold his weight. "Is it okay if I check it out up there?" he asked, nodding toward the steps. "If it works out, it would give us both more privacy." At her return nod, he put a foot on the first step and slowly lowering his weight on it. The wood creaked, but it held his weight fine. With a sigh of relief, he hurried up the remaining stairs. 

Stepping up to the door of the bedroom on the upstairs floor, Sam let his gaze flicker about the room. It wasn't much. There was a single bed, two small windows, and a small desk next to the window, with a chair that looked like it might collapse on him if he sat in it. Walking in, Sam ducked his head slightly, looking up toward the ceiling, then straightened when he saw that he wasn't going to knock himself out. Pushing the neighboring door open he found a small bathroom. Toilet, sink and clawfoot tub. He frowned slightly, not thrilled that there was no shower stall, but then again, it was better then sharing the downstairs one with his aunt. 

Yeah, this would work. It wasn't great by any means, and these lacy curtains would have to go, but he could fix the room up in no time to his liking. Sam tossed his bag down on the bed, then turned to make his way back down the stairs, a small smile on his face. "Found my room!" he called out half way down the stairs.

"Good." There was a twinkle in her dark eyes as she looked at him. "The curtains..." she didn't say _awful_..."were a gift from your mother. Her first and last attempt at sewing." 

Sam had bounded down the stairs and was now stood in front of her as she spoke of his mother. His head hung down, smile falling from his face. "Oh." it was all he could think of to say. Well, he couldn't take them down now. He sighed softly as he followed her and slumped into a chair at the dining room table without bothering to pull it out. 

Well, maybe he could just... cover the curtains... a bit. "When, uh, when was mom... here?"

"A long time ago." She thought back to a time when her nephew and his wife had considered making Forks their home. "About twenty two, twenty three years ago. They stayed with me for a while." Knowing how secretive John was, she didn't go on to tell the youth that his mother had been pregnant and that she'd miscarried. That had been the last she'd seen of the young couple, although John contacted her once every decade. "Would you like some tea or coffee, or milk?" 

Sam pressed his lips together as he hung his head thinking about his mother and father in this small house. He shrugged, "Um, milk...please." after a moment, he could hear his Dad in his head telling him to get off his keester and go get it himself. With a huff, Sam pulled to his feet. "I can get it. Just, uh, where are the glasses?"

From the dining room, she pointed to a cabinet in the kitchen. "There's also a cake on the counter, help yourself." For the second time since Sam had appeared at her doorstep, she was relieved John had brought him up right. As Sam moved around the kitchen, she told him about the town. The main street where all the restaurants and businesses were, which weren't many. The location of his school, which was impossible to miss, and a little bit of the town's history. 

When he returned, she continued. "I work in the coroner's office in the next town over. Have been there for over thirty years now. I leave early and get out early, but most days I have things like bridge club and knitting club, so I don't get home until after seven or so. Are you studious?" Her eyes narrowed, "your father said you are." She wasn't keen on having to get after a teenager about homework at her age but was up to it if necessary.

Sam smiled at her, "I got straight A's at the last school I went to." he shrugged, "Kind of a geek, I guess," he told her as he sat down with his glass of milk and piece of cake. Belatedly he stood up quickly, eyes wide, "Oh, I'm sorry, did you want something? I kinda forgot, I'm a little nervous.” As he talked he was waving his arm back toward the kitchen only to knock his plate of cake onto the floor. "And accident prone, apparently," he muttered as the plate clattered against the hard wood. Sam grimaced and quickly knelt to clean it up. "Sorry, Aunt, uh, Cathleen," he mumbled, shaking his head at himself.

" _Great_ aunt," she corrected, telling him where the dust bin was in the kitchen. "There aren't any spills this floor hasn't see, but just you keep away from my crystal figurines collection in the living room." Pushing up from her chair, she walked past him into the kitchen. "You don't have to keep me company, or anything. Dinner will be ready in an hour and half."

Sam nodded. Once he had the mess cleaned, he grabbed his glass, drinking down the milk before taking it to the sink. "I'll go unpack a bit." he mumbled, before walking from the room.

* * *

The sky over Forks was angry and dark. The rain falling in sheets hardly slowed Dean Cullen's progress down the mountain, his Lamborghini taking the curves at deadly speeds until he reached the main street, where he slowed enough that if he was cited for driving fast, they wouldn't throw away the key. That thought amused him.

Timing it just right so he'd never have to stop, he went through a green light, made a u-turn into the high school parking lot, and a sharp turn into _his_ spot. Only his quick reflexes in slamming on the brakes stopped him from crashing right into a big boat of a car that was trying to take his spot. "Sonova bitch," he grit out, opening his door and stepping out in a fluid motion. The impact had been light, but he wanted to check for damage. Then there was the human idiot driver to check on, maybe he'd scared himself to death.

 

Sam had tried to hold off going to school as long as he could that morning, rummaging around, moving his bed closer to one of the windows so that _if_ the sun ever made an appearance it would shine on his feet in the morning and not his face. Eventually, he’d resigned himself to the fact he couldn't hold off the inevitable any longer and left the house, hurrying to the Impala through the downpour. Pulling into the school grounds he found almost every space in the lot filled, save for one... unless he wanted to have to trudge through the rain for nearly a half mile. Not likely. He wasn't sure why everyone seemed to simply ignore the spot, but he sure as hell wasn't going to. It was up front, on pavement and not the mud hell, and it was wide open. 

Pulling the Impala around he stated to pull into the empty space when out of no where, as though it had been dropped from the sky in this torrential downpour, came a sports car pulling in at the same time. He hadn't even seen the damn thing until he felt the slight jolt from the car striking his own. Ah, hell. Dad was gonna kill him if the car was wrecked. 

With a muttered curse under his breath, Sam reached for the door handle and slid from behind the wheel. Turning to face whatever idiot it was that had hit his car, Sam narrowed his eyes.

Having already confirmed there was no damage to his vehicle, Dean straightened. About to tell the stranger, who had to be the _new kid_ at school, that this spot was taken, he found the words stuck in his throat. The driver of the other car was tall, dark, lanky, and had the face of some of the angels the old masters used to paint. But that wasn't what struck Dean. It was the boy's scent. There was barely any wind, and they were a car apart, but he felt like he was sucker punched by a need... a craving so terrible, so sharp, he was sure he couldn't control it. His eyes went dark... black... he clenched his fists and willed the newcomer to get the fuck away.

When the guy pulled up from looking at the car’s bumpers, then looked at him, Sam's eyes widened slightly. The guy was... _beautiful_. There was no other word for it. He was beautiful. Dark short blond hair, pale skin, and his eyes... were they... black? The look on the guys face, Sam figured he must have messed up his expensive car on the Impala's bumper. 

Sam licked his lips, glancing at the other kids who had stopped to watch, he wasn't sure if they expected there to be a fight or just what the deal was, but they were all watching with their mouths hanging open. With a sigh, Sam walked to the end of the Impala, his eyes on the other guy as he moved. Finally, he tore his gaze away and looked down to find that there wasn't even a scratch... on either car. What the hell was the guy’s problem then? He was glaring at Sam like he'd just committed a cardinal sin. "Uh, look, sorry, about the car," Sam stammered, glancing around nervously. He didn't need to get into a fight the first day of school, so he had apologized... even though he didn't exactly think this was his fault. Besides, no matter how tough this guy was, he didn't have the training Sam did. It wouldn't be a fair fight.

 

He really shouldn't be breathing, but Dean couldn't help it. He inhaled the scent deeper, telling himself it made no difference. His entire body had reacted to it already and nothing... nothing could make him forget the heady sensations coursing through his veins, or the need rising... engulfing him. He bared his teeth, imagining how soft the boy's throat would be, how sweet his blood, how exciting his moans would sound in his ears. 

Dean blinked. "Stay out of this spot," he forced out, staggering backward and getting into the car. Without bothering to turn the car around, he drove backwards, all the way out into the street, tires squealing against the wet pavement.

Sam blinked. _Stay out of this spot,_ he says.... Sam huffed and shook his head as he turned and started to walk back toward the still open driver side door, pausing there, He looked in the direction the Lamborghini had taken sped off. Well, he _looked_ beautiful anyway, even if he was a jerk. 

Sliding behind the wheel, Sam put the car in reverse and slowly backed up, pulling around toward the other open spaces farther away, muttering under his breath as he drove. Parking the Impala, Sam grabbed his backpack and headed out into the rain. Maybe he'd luck out and get pneumonia and die. Nah, he couldn't get that lucky.

* * *

For two days, Dean stayed away from school. He’d spoken with Carlisle, his dad for all purposes, and he'd phoned his brother Edward who was now in Alaska. Edward had gone though something similar very recently. Having seen everything Edward experience and the dangers he'd put both his human girlfriend, Bella, and their own family through, Dean was fully prepared not to make the same mistakes. Sure, they all loved Bella now, she was like family... and dinner if they weren't careful. She made Edward happy, there was that as well. But she spelled d-a-n-g-e-r, and that was the bottom line.

Thinking he had his cravings under control after having gone on a long hunt with Emmet, Dean was back at school. When he'd arrived a few hours ago, he'd almost been willing to bet a certain car from the dark ages would have taken his spot, but he'd been wrong. Good, maybe the human had some sense.

Then he'd thought maybe he'd be spared seeing more of the new kid, maybe they wouldn't be in the same classes. And yeah, he knew his name, but not thinking it ... not personalizing it... helped a bit. 

In third period, English, he'd gone to the back of the room and slumped down in his chair, flipping his textbook open. _Dammit._ He didn't have to look up. The now familiar tension filled him, made him grit his teeth as he tried to concentrate on the words swimming in front of his eyes instead of on that intoxicating scent.

Sam walked in, glancing at one of the guys and the girl he'd met and flashing them one of his dimple-filled smiles, before his gaze settled totally on the person in the seat right beside his seat. _Oh shit._

With a sigh, Sam made his way back to his seat and slid into it, making sure to keep his eyes forward as much as possible, though as he leaned his head slightly and through his long bangs stole a glance or two at the guy next to him. Dean Cullen. Sam had asked Tom, Stacy and Mike what his name was after they had met and began talking about the school and who was cool and who wasn't. 

Feeling the weight of the new kid's gaze, Dean met it for only a second, a warning clear in his eyes and in the unfriendly sneer he mustered. _Stay away from me._ He leaned as far to the other side of his desk as possible, ignoring him again.

 _Jesus! What the hell was this guys problem?_ Sam frowned, looking quickly away from him. Noticing how far away the guy was leaning, Sam tried to smell himself without _looking_ like he was smelling himself. No. Wasn't him. Tommy Boy, deodorant and soap. Nothing bad there. Sam huffed and tried to concentrate on what the teacher was saying and not the guy beside him, who kept drawing his attention despite himself.

The next half hour crawled by excruciatingly slowly. Dean thought he was about to go out of his mind. He'd never been so fucking aware of anyone in his life. Not a soul. Without looking, he could sense every breath the boy took. Hear every sigh. Know that half of them were directed to him. Hearing his pencil scribbling across paper, he could imagine those long fingers closed around the the pencil, the pressure... and why the hell that should make him feel so unbalanced was beyond him.

Thirty more minutes. He could survive them. Then he could rejoin his own kind in the cafeteria, his brothers and sisters would ground him. 

Twenty eight more minutes.

The boy moved suddenly, bending over to get something out of his bag pack. _Fuck_ His scent struck Dean so hard, he had to grip the edge of his desk. His pale fingers grew even whiter at the knuckles as he internally started to count, and to consider running out of class.

Sam searched through his backpack, frowning. Where the hell was the damn book? He knew he had it with him at the house last night... SHIT! He'd left it on the damn nightstand. Oh hell... now what was he going to do? Sam slowly started to straighten and glanced around for someone nearby to share with. Damn it. With a sigh, he looked at the guy who apparently thought he had cooties, though he had thought they'd outgrown such behavior years ago, and licked his lips slowly, trying to think of how to ask. 

"Uh, dude," Sam whispered, "I left my book at home... can I, uh, can I share with you?"

The sharp _no_ at the tip of Dean’s tongue died a fiery death as he felt the teacher's gaze on them. This was his worst nightmare. He gave a barely perceptible nod, his grip on the desk tightening as the guy dragged his desk close. Too close. Dean pulled his arm away just as the two desks touched.

One glance into those hazel eyes and Dean had to use every shred of his control. Maybe the guy saw something of what he was feeling, because now he was swallowing, and drawing Dean's attention to his throat. A hundred times worse... this was a hundred times worse. Practically shoving the book toward the guy, Dean pulled as far away as he could without half his ass hanging off his chair.

Sam glanced at the guy, their eyes meeting for only a split second, but it still made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He tore his gaze away, just in time to find the teacher giving him 'that look'. 

"Maybe you could read the next three paragraphs for us, Sam," she said. 

Sam stiffled a groan as he looked down at the book that was all but shoved at him. Great. He had to read while sitting next to the town’s next serial killer. Perfect. 

With a sigh, Sam tried to focus his attention on the book and started reading. If he just kept reading, maybe all thoughts of this guy would vanish, maybe he'd get drawn into the story like he usually did when he read, maybe... yeah, right. And maybe he'd win the lottery and move to California where the sun lived and beautiful guys with black eyes and the palest skin possible weren't glaring at him for breathing.

At first the boy spoke in a low voice, but it got stronger as he read the passage. Was it possible to be drawn to someone's voice and cadence? Did it have to do with his blood, his scent? Or was this something different? It was as if Dean felt every word of the melancholy poem stabbing him deep in the heart. The boy didn't stumble over the words, didn't seem to feel self conscious, and his facial expressions... Dean hadn't been able to keep from stealing a glance or two... made it clear he understood the layered meanings behind the words. There went Dean's hope that the guy was as dumb as a rock.

When he stopped reading, Dean reached for the book and felt the boy's warm breath on the back of his hand. This time when he looked at him, there was a new hunger in the depths of his eyes.

As their gazes clashed, Sam's eyes widen slightly before he quickly turned his head away, frowning as he tried to think of everything he had learned from his father. This wasn't right. This wasn't right. The thought, kept echoing through his head. He was sure, positive that Dean Cullen had _black_ eyes... now he suddenly had brilliant green/gold!? No way he put in contacts sitting there in class while Sam had been reading. No way. Sam glanced back toward the guy, swallowing hard. "How - how'd you do that?" he whispered.

 _If he swallowed one more time..._ A muscle pulsed in Dean's jaw. "Do what," he answered tightly. Four minutes. He could last four minutes.

Sam narrowed his eyes at the guy. "Your eyes. I know they were black a second ago."

 _Shit. He was observant too._ Dean masked his thoughts even as he tried again, unsuccessfully, to read the guy's mind. _Dammit._ Narrowing his own eyes, Dean answered. "Yours were brown a moment ago, now they're practically green. It's the lighting." His tone was meant to make the guy feel like a fool.

Then the bell rang, and Dean disappeared with his book and bag, leaving temptation behind him. That... that had been pure torture.

Sam huffed as he watched Dean Cullen walk from the room. "They're called hazel, asshole and they don't change from black to greenish gold," he mumbled under his breath reaching down for his book bag. No one’s eyes did that. At least no one human.

* * *

Sam sat in the lunchroom surrounded by his new friends, Tom, Stacy and Mike, laughing and having a pretty good time talking about the newspaper article that Mike was writing about the local Reservation. 

Stacy was leaning with her hands on Sam's shoulder as she stuck her tongue out at Tom for calling her a bitch about.... Sam wasn't sure just what.. about that time, his attention was totally on the Cullen family as they walked into the cafeteria. 

Mike, nudged him, but Sam only made a small sound in his throat keeping his eyes trained on Dean Cullen. He didn't even hear Stacy groan as she pulled away from him to sit down in the chair beside him.

"Give it up, dude. He's not your type." Tom told him, glancing at Mike and Stacy.  
Sam nodded, "Yeah, yeah," Sam muttered, not really listening to them.

"Look, Sam. We all know what you said about not limiting yourself on who you are going to love and all, but dude, the Cullens are off limits." Stacy told him. She’d never have pegged him to be bisexual until they’d all had that discussion where he said gender shouldn’t matter.

Sam only nodded slowly.

The first thing they did was stake their claim to the table in the corner of the room. No one ever sat there but his family. Dean felt Emmet watching him and knew it was because _he_ was also watching him. Not saying a thing, he sat down next to Alice who was looking directly at the boy.

_He's cute. I think he's crushing._

Hearing Alice's thoughts, Dean answered. "Only because he's got a death wish."

_Is that what he's thinking about? A death wish?_

Dean cursed and gave her a hard look. She knew how frustrating he found it that he couldn't read the guy's thoughts.

That was when Jasper got up to go get a tray of food, and the others filed out behind him. As Alice passed Dean, she asked, "what about Stacy. What is she thinking?" When Dean's expression turned impossibly harder, she had her answer. "It's gonna happen," she foretold, leaving him behind to go straight to the drinks station.

Everything Alice saw was subject to change. Nothing was written in stone. At least that was what Dean told himself as he started to fill his tray with foods he wasn't about to eat. He turned his head slightly, and met hazel eyes staring intently at him as if trying to figure him out. 

Sam stiffened slightly and swallowed hard, quickly looking away toward Stacy who's ass was now in his face as she leaned over the table to whisper something to Mike.  
Using that as an excuse to look back over at Dean again, he licked his lips. "Uh, maybe I'll go get a salad," he mumbled pulling from his chair and walking toward the Cullens.

It irked him. The fact that the boy had looked away to stare at Stacy's behind. Yeah he knew any red blooded human male would have done the same, but he also knew _she'd_ done it on purpose, just to draw his attention. 

The look of displeasure was still on his face when the guy came into the line, right next to him. Next to him! "Did you have a question?" he asked, looking directly at him.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, are those tomatoes fresh?" What the heck was up with this guy? No, he didn't have a question. He was just.. Sam huffed and shook his head, reached for some fruit instead. "Look, I don't know why you don't like me," Sam began, both hands tightening on his tray. "I told you I was sorry about your car, it wasn't even dented. I don't know what the hell your problem with me is," he turned to face Dean then, hands leaving the tray as he turned. "Guess I'm slow, why don't you spell it out for me!"

"I don't _dislike_ you," Dean eventually said, unable to truthfully tell him he didn't have a problem with him. He had a problem, a big one. "And the tomatoes aren't fresh. I'll bet they've been sitting around the kitchen for weeks. That one there... bet there's a worm in it," he said, pointing at a cherry tomato, before moving away as the guy moved along with him. 

Didn't dislike.... Sam glanced at the cherry tomato and back at Dean, confusion and anger clear on his face. "And just how the hell do you know that!? What, are you Superman now? Can you see through me?" Sam stepped out slightly from the line, opening his arms wide for Dean to _see through him_. Noticing that they had attracted everyone’s attention, he lowered his arms. "And if you don't dislike me, then what the hell is it!?" Sam asked him, just as Stacy slid in between them, pressing her hands to Sam's chest.   
"Sam," she said, glancing over her shoulder at Dean, and giving him an apologetic look before looking back at Sam, "Maybe you ought to step outside. Calm down a little?" she suggested. 

Sam glanced down at her before looking back up at Dean, "I'm fine." he told her through clenched teeth.

"You should listen to her." It killed him to say it, when he knew that the next thing Stacy was going to tell the boy was that they should go listen to a CD in her car. "And forget the warning. Knock yourself out, eat the fuckin' tomato." Giving them his back, Dean walked up to the cashier and pulled his wallet out, waiting for her to finish ringing up the student on her other side.  
"Unbe-freakin'-lievable." Sam muttered as he glanced back down at Stacy who was tugging on him trying to get him to walk out with her. "Fine." he told her, glaring daggers at Dean as he walked past, putting an arm around Stacy's shoulders.

Seeing the deep scowl on her brother's ordinarily expressionless face, Alice put her hand over his. _You could change this._

He shook his head. "It's better this way."

Rosalie nodded. "He's right. One mistake is enough."

Emmet looked at her, then at Dean. _I don't think Edward made a mistake. He took a difficult path, but it was the better one._

Dean gave no indication he'd heard Emmet's thoughts as he ripped the bun on his tray to shreds. Somewhere in the cafeteria, a girl shrieked about finding a worm in her food. Too bad _tall, dark and addicting_ wasn't around to hear it.

* * *

It was only eight at night, but Dean saw Emmet and Rosalie exchange heated looks. He tried not to read their minds, but failed. It was a relief when they left the living room. 

Carlisle's voice drew his attention. He tried to listen, to stay interested as his father talked about the classical movie they were watching on the big flat screen in their ultra modern house in the boonies.

His mind wandered. Kept wandering, thinking on the deepest, most serious eyes he'd ever seen. Unafraid. Full of life, and of emotions. Just the thought made him crave things. Things beyond the obvious. Things that he'd never experienced. Turning his head slightly, he saw Carlisle put his hand over Esme's, and almost flinched at the familiar sight.

Wordlessly, he shot up and headed up the stairs, ignoring his mother's call.

"Let him go, Esme. He has to find his own way," Carlisle told her, drawing her close. They both worried about Dean. It had been a relief when Edward found a mate, difficult as it was seeing as she was human. As for Dean... it was still unclear whether it was this new boy's blood that he craved, or something more.


	2. Chapter 2

After lunch Mike had mentioned going for pizza later. Wasn't like Sam had a hell of a lot to go home to. What was aunt, no wait, _Great-aunt_ , he rolled his eyes at the thought correction, going to make tonight? Meatloaf? It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it, but, when given the choice between pizza with friends and meatloaf with his silver haired great-aunt, he'd take the pizza hands down. 

So there they were at Andy's pizza and there was Stacy, sitting as close as she had been in the car when he had walked out with her and she’d gotten him to listen to that new CD. Sam shoved himself more into the corner of the booth, trying to move away from her without being obvious. It wasn't that Stacy wasn't pretty, she was... but she wasn't the one he kept thinking about. 

Sam huffed at himself under his breath. Yeah, just his luck to have the hots for the one asshole in school. 

_Dammit, Sam, just forget him and turn your attention to Stacy. She’s nice ... even if she comes on a little strong._

A couple of hours later, the group started to break up. Sam walked backwards, away from the other three, with a grin and a wave, before he turned and fished his keys from his pocket. 

At his car, he unlocked the door just as he heard footsteps coming up behind him. Sam froze for a moment, before turning quickly, arm raised, hand curled into a fist. 

"Whoa! Calm down!" Stacy told him, holding her hands up. 

Sam sighed and slowly lowered his arm. "Stacy, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that." He watched her tilt her head to the side and look at him with that flirty look in her eyes. 

"Well, maybe if you weren't thinking about that Cullen boy all the time, you wouldn't be so jumpy." 

Sam hung his head, shaking it. "What is it, Stacy?" 

She stepped up to him taking his hand in hers, as she looked adoringly up at him. "I was thinking, if you weren't going with someone already... you might go to Homecoming with me." 

Sam swallowed, glanced around the parking lot, before looking back at her and licking his lips thoughtfully. "Yeah, about that... Uh, I don't think I'm going at all," he told her. She started to pout and he hurried to continue, "I just moved in with my great-aunt and she's old... she needs me at home. I'm sorry, Stacy." he told her, hating that he had to lie, but not knowing what else to say that wouldn't hurt her feelings. She was a sweet girl... even if she wasn't the one he was really wanting to spend time with. 

Stacy sighed and nodded, "I understand, it's because you're just that sweet," she told him, raising up on tip toes to kiss his cheek, before slowly moving to kiss his lips. 

Sam staggered, his back colliding with his car. "Uh, I should go. Really, I'm sorry," he said as he turned and tugged open the Impala's door, sliding behind the wheel. 

He closed the door and started the engine, glancing over as Stacy walked away, watching her until she got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot. He sighed softly, turning his car off again and kicking the floorboard. "Damn you Dean Cullen!" he muttered angrily, before letting his head fall back on the head rest, and closing his eyes. 

*

[Daydream]

Dean ran, scrambling up the sides of the river bed, his hands torn on the rough boulders. And still it came after him, the mountain lion. "Help," he shouted in his deep, husky voice, making it over the embankment and heading into the woods. He was tiring, slowing down, when he saw Sam. "Run! Run," he shouted, staggering over a thick tree root and hitting the ground. The snarling of the cat was so close... so close, he wasn't gonna have time to get up. 

Sam had been out in the woods shooting targets like his Dad had taught him, staying sharp. 'Never let your guard down, don't go flabby. That's when you find yourself in trouble,' his Dad has always told him. He'd heard the call for help, knew that voice and had run toward it. _Dean_

He looked from Dean as to the approaching mountain lion, swallowed hard, eyes narrowed and raised the sawed off shotgun. Fired. Once, twice. And once more to be sure. The cat lay on its side a few yards away, deep clawed groove marks in the earth where it had skidded to a stop. 

Sam hurried over to Dean, falling to his knees beside him on the damp earth. "Are you okay?" He started checking Dean over, pushing his clothes this way and that to look for injuries.

Breathing hard, Dean grabbed Sam's arm and nodded. "Fine. How'd you... what were you doing out here." He looked down at his bared stomach, then up at Sam again as he started to sit. 

Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder stopping his movements as heated hazel eyes stared into green/gold. He licked his lips, "I, uh, was target..." Sam frowned, shook his head, "doesn't matter... as long as you're sure you're okay." 

Sam's eyes slowly traveled down Dean’s body, before slowly moving back up. He blinked a few times as though to clear his thoughts, and pulled his hand away. "Oh. Uh, sorry." he muttered, pulling to his feet and offering Dean a hand up.

Grasping it, Dean got up and started to wipe the dirt and leaves off. "Thanks. I mean for..." he nodded at the dead animal. "I would have been a goner. But you know?" He paused and gave Sam a meaningful look. "A _smart person_ would have run."

Sam smiled at him, all dimples and eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as he shrugged. "Guess I'm just drawn to danger." Catching sight of Dean's hands, he reached out, grabbing one. "Dude, your hands are a mess. I should put something on these for you. Clean them up," hazel eyes locked on green/gold as he spoke, "wouldn't want you to get an infection," he told him, his voice having dropped an octave, husky.

"If you tell me you not only carry a gun but you have a medical kit, I'm gonna have to kiss you," Dean answered, giving him a heated look of his own. "Or if you don't, maybe you can kiss me better." 

Sam quirked a brow at him, licked his lips and swallowed. "My - my car. I have a first-aid kit in..." he didn't finish the sentence, only stepped slightly closer as he gazed into those eyes, those beautiful eyes...

"That an invitation? Really?" Dean's gaze searched Sam's face. "I'll take it." 

An instant later, Dean had Sam backed up against a tree and was cupping the side of his neck with his hand as he drew him downwards. Mouth open and ready, Dean covered Sam's mouth, kissing him lightly at first, then sucking on his lower lip before crushing their mouths together harder for a real kiss. He pushed his tongue inside that moist hot channel and started to explore, letting the heat build slowly between them.

Sam moaned softy into Dean's mouth, his tongue tangling with Dean's as his arm wrapped around him, pulled him in close. What was it about Dean Cullen that had Sam acting like this? He was usually shy and quiet, but right now all he could think about was pulling Dean as close as possible, about how clothes were really annoying and about how this would be much better in the backseat of his car.

The kiss slowly ended, but Sam didn't pull away, his lips against Dean's as he spoke, "I - I can take you... to my car..." he swallowed again, something he found himself doing a lot around Dean. He made him nervous, excited and thrilled him.

"Let's go," Dean said confidently, putting an arm around Sam's shoulder, his breaths still labored. "You talkin' about fixing me up still, or... something else?" The heated look in his eyes expressed his hopes.

Sam's breath hitched in his throat lips parting before he pressed them together, breathing in deep through his nose. Licking his lips Sam pulled his head back, "I - I think we should fix you up," he told him, "And then, something else might just come to us," he added, clearing his throat nervously and looking away as a warm flush stained his cheeks.

Nodding and chuckling, Dean didn't press further, not until they got to the car and true to his word, Sam pulled out a medical kit. "You know, that means I owe you a kiss," he said, swaying toward Sam. Just as their lips touched, there was a sharp rapping against the window of Sam's car.

*

Charlie Swan, chief of the police in Forks, knocked again, until the teenager rolled his window down. "Everything alright son?" He stuck his head in as far as he could, trying to see if he got a whiff of alcohol. 

Sam had opened his eyes and blinked, slowly lifting his head from the head rest. He had quickly rolled down the window, blushing profusely and grateful for the cover of darkness that hid the fact from the policeman. 

One hand went to the crotch of his jeans as he tried to nonchalantly push down and hide his straining erection. "Uh, everything's fine, officer. I was just.... just...uh," Sam let out a nervous chuckle, "I guess I was sleeping. Wow. Didn't realize I was that tired. Well, I better get home and get to bed," he rattled on.

"You must be Cathleen's nephew. Sam Winchester," Charlie nodded, pulling back. "Tell her I said hello. Your father too. It's been too long since we've seen him in these parts." Seeing nothing was amiss, he headed back to his cruiser, leaving the teen to his own devices.

Sam was still nodding as he watched the officer walk back to his car. Once the man was inside and pulling away, Sam let out a long sigh of relief as his head slumped back on the seat. What the hell was his problem!? Never. He had never daydreamed before! 

Lifting his head, Sam reached forward and turned the key in the ignition. He was losing his mind. That's all there was to it. He was absolutely losing it.

* * *

Third period came too soon. Dean was in the doorway of their classroom when instead of heading for his regular seat, he veered as far away from the 'new guy' as possible, and sat down next to an open-mouthed classmate. He really had to fight the temptation to answer the questions in her head because telling her no, he did not like her, might cause a scene.

Naturally, he felt the weight of those hazel eyes on him, but did his best to ignore that entire side of the room. His attempts to check out of this class had been a bust since it was too late in the semester, so he was just gonna have to deal with being in the same class a bit more creatively.

Sam watched Dean walk in and sit on the other side of the class. Next to some girl who was looking at Dean like he was friggin' Chad Michael Murray or something. That's when it hit him. Dean didn't like guys. Of course. It made sense. Sam sighed as he looked back down at his book. Way to go, Winchester. Freak the guy out next time. He tried to keep his eyes on his book, but couldn't help stealing glances every so often. Damn. Okay, he _so_ needed to stop this. 

With a deep sigh, Sam tilted his head back and closed his eyes, his head hanging backward as he sat there in the short backed chair. He could do this. Just stop looking. It wasn't _that_ big of a deal!...right?

Dean tensed. _He_ was intentionally torturing him. Had to be. Why else was he exposing his throat like that? Why? Between that and breathing in Sam’s addictive scent even from across the room, Dean started to get edgy all over again. What the hell. What had he done to deserve to be in this hell? Scrubbing his face with his hands, he deliberately looked down and kept his eyes glued to his book, refusing to look up at all. 

In fact he was barely listening until Mrs. Appleby started talking about a project they'd be working on for the next couple of weeks. They'd learned about newspapers, reporting, journalism, and even a bit of marketing and advertising that went into it. She wanted to put their knowledge to use by creating magazines or newspapers. 

"Class I want you to be creative. Your magazine can be written for an alien people on Venus, or in Italy during the times of Romeo and Juliet, or the civil war. It needs to have articles and ads geared for your market. I have a few examples from last year on the table there if you want to take a look. Every day or so, I'll give you a half hour to meet with your partner in class, but of course I expect you to work together after school as well.

As she started to call off the pairs of students she was teaming up, Dean relaxed, noting that she was merely putting those seated next to each other together.

Sam listened, his eyes still closed as she read off the names. He wasn't sitting around anyone now that Dean had moved away. So, maybe he was safe. He could just do this project on his own. Something that would keep his mind busy. 

Slowly, Sam opened his eyes and started to pull his head up, just as Mrs. Appleby said his name. 

"Sam Winchester and Dean -"  
Before she even finished, Sam's eyes widened. No, she wouldn't she couldn't.  
"Cullen," she finished and Sam sighed heavily and hung his head, "Shit!" he swore, and none too quietly. 

"Samuel!" Mrs. Appleby gasping his name, made Sam's head snap up, his eyes wide.

"Uh, sorry, Mrs. Appleby. I, uh, hurt my finger. Sorry." he stammered, glancing toward Dean, before looking away, muscle twitching in his jaw.

"Is there a problem," the teacher asked, this time looking at Dean."

"No problem," Dean answered knowing he was screwed ten ways from Sunday.

"Good because the pairings are based on where you would normally sit." She clapped her hands together. Put your desks together and start brainstorming your ideas. By Friday, I want an outline of your plans."

The sound of desks being pulled around filled the room. In the time it took to bat an eyelash, Dean had a desk pushed up against the top of Sam's desk, facing him. Their gazes locked. 

Sam swallowed, "What do you want to do?" Sam asked him, his voice was soft and husky, sounding far too private for a question about school work. He cleared his throat, tore his gaze away. "Do, uh, do you have a certain idea in mind?"

What he wanted to do was reach across the small distance between them, drag him close and sink his teeth into that throat he’d exposed so damned nonchalantly. There were some questions that should never be asked, and this boy didn't seem to know what they were. It set his teeth on edge.

He took in the flutter of Sam’s lashes, the torturous convulsion of his throat, and the quickening sound of his heart beat. At least he was nervous. That was a step in the right direction. "Aliens? Ever seen Waterworld? A news rag set in that movie setting?" he shrugged, and focused at once on the teacher's hand on Sam's shoulder. 

"I expect something wonderful from the two of you," she said, and moved away.

Sam glanced up at the teacher and nodded, before looking back at Dean. "Waterworld? Really?" he asked shaking his head a grin pulling at his lips before he licked them, placing his hands and forearms on the desk, threading his fingers together as he pressed his weight down on the desk causing his rear to lift off the seat, drawing closer to Dean so he could speak softly. "I was thinking of Romeo and Juliet," he told him quietly, before looking up over his brows at Mrs.Appleby as she walked by. He looked back at Dean, "It should have class and style, be something that speaks to people," he shrugged and pulled away from Dean, letting himself sit down fully once more in the chair. 

Sam looked over at Dean, waiting for his response, his reaction. Well? What did he think?! "Thoughts?" Sam asked him finally.

Multi tasking had never been a problem for Dean, but trying to think and not be so aware of every movement his partner made was impossible. Then he had to go and choose Romeo and Juliet. Something with layers and layers of emotion, craving and desire for what could not be, and ending in tragedy. His eyes went black for a moment, but he got a hold of himself. "You mean like an expose' about what happened to them, editorials, and a eulogy? I mean with all the other things that would be in a newspaper from those times?" 

Sam frowned thoughtfully, nodding. "Yeah, that sounds great. Maybe a few notes between them, found and published along with the editorials. Something to capture the people and make them think, force them to feel," Sam told him passionately before he suddenly stopped and chuckled. "Sorry. Kinda geeky, huh?" Slumping back and tilting his head to the side, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, he backtracked. "Nah, we can do Waterwold, it's fine."

The flatness of Sam's voice when he said 'Waterworld' was in sharp contrast with the fiery excitement with which he'd proposed Romeo and Juliet. "It's harder, but let’s go with Romeo and Juliet. I like to get good grades," Dean said, challenging Sam to do the same. He almost smiled. Hell, they were gonna be stuck together now for a while, so it was out of his hands. Let the chips fall where they might. A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders.

Sam smiled, dimples showing as he nodded. "Alright, cool. Romeo and Juliet then." Sam glanced over at the crowd of others milling about the examples Mrs. Appleby had laid out, "You wanna take a look at those? I think I already have a few ideas." Sam pulled his hands off the desk, ran them over the thighs of his jeans. "So, uh, I guess we should get started, huh?" he muttered, looking around like he was at loss as to what to do next.

"Don't fidget." The words were out before he could stop them. He searched Sam's eyes for signs he was going to freak out again, like in the cafeteria. 

Sam turned his head and looked at Dean, his eyes narrowed slightly, but only slightly before he only gave a curt nod and pulled to his feet, walking over to get a few of the supplies that were laid out in the back of the room. 

"What are you and 'dreamboat' doing yours on?"  
Sam sighed, nearly rolling his eyes. Stacy. He took a deep breath before looking over at her, "Romeo and Juliet." 

"That's appropriate," she muttered, "Mike and I are doing the civil war." she shrugged, "Not like I care. It's his deal, not mine." 

Sam nodded, "Uh-huh." turning his attention back to the items he was grabbing before, turning and walking away, back to his seat. He looked over at Dean as he sat down. "So, I guess first, we oughta name this said magazine, huh?"

Looking at some of the stuff Sam had brought... a sample newspaper and magazine, some coupons for free graphics and photographs, and some other services that they could use to put some realistic looking paper together. "You know, she'd rather do Romeo and Juliet with you than with him." What Dean really wanted to know was, whether Sam would prefer that as well. He looked up, trying to read his expression since Sam’s mind was such a goddamned mystery.

Sam glanced at Dean and smiled, then looked back over his shoulder at Stacy. He shrugged as he turned back to face Dean. "She’s that transparent, huh?" he huffed and shook his head, made a face. "She's okay, I guess," he muttered, as he started looking through some of the items he had brought back, having just grabbed a handful once Stacy showed up.

"Oh look, there's a program for your comp that'll make old style writings. That'll be cool. Course, the letters should look like they were handwritten. Oh, look, we can get some stuff from this place too!" Sam wasn't even thinking about Stacy Hunt anymore, which was about as much as he thought about her anyway. Out of sight, out of mind.

Strangely pleased, but not entirely satisfied, Dean threw himself into the project as well. "I don't think they could copy and print letters in those days, so it wouldn't look any different." First hand experience in past-times helped. "How about we say it's a modern magazine, which focuses on something different every month. This month, it's to prove up Romeo and Juliet, including the letters you're dying for," his gaze flicked to Sam's. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was vested in that aspect of the project. 

_Shit! Just when had he started to think of him as 'Sam?' Shit shit shit..._

Drawing away, Dean took a breath. His features once more hardening as he regained his senses. "It can still have old fashioned ads... a re-imagined 1650's magazine for modern consumption. What do you think?" If Steve or Stacy had been his partner, he'd have had to explain it to them three more times. 

Sam frowned thoughtfully as he nodded, "It could work." he grinned, "like seasonal festival magazines or topical ones." Sam nodded, "Cool. And it will make it a lot easier," he stilled then and looked up at Dean over his brows, "And who says I am dying for the letters?"

"You're dying for letters," Dean insisted, getting up and getting his things. Seeing the puzzled look on Sam's face, he added, "bell rang." Smirking, he walked away, leaving Sam to collect all the junk they'd gathered from the teacher.

Sam watched Dean walk away his mouth hanging open before he looked down at the mess he had to clean up, collect and arrange. "Aw, hell," Sam grumbled as he quickly started to gather it all up, glancing toward the door every so often, muttering under his breath. 

* * *

Lunch. About damn time too. Sam wasn't in the mood to eat, talk or do much of anything but sleep. He hadn't been sleeping well, laying in bed thinking about green/gold eyes. He was slumped over the table, head buried in his arms when Mike walked up to him with a chuckle as he slid into the seat beside Sam he nudged him with his elbow. "Hey, man. Stacy ask you to the..."  
Before Mike could finish, Sam groaned out a, "Yes!"  
"Oh." was Mikes only reply, his laughter dying away. Sam turned his head away, "Just lemme sleep a little while, then you can pump me for information," he mumbled sleepily.

The disinterested look on Dean's face cleared immediately as his attention laser focused on Sam and Mike. So Stacy had asked Sam to Homecoming. His lips parted as he bared his teeth slightly. _And... he said what?_ His nostrils flared when Mike didn't press. Dean started to scan everyone's thoughts... someone had to know, had to be thinking about it... someone.

No answers, and it was driving him crazy. Where the fuck was she? Stacy? His gaze went back to Sam, willing him to get the fuck up and talk some more with Mike.

After a few awkward moments of silence, Mike poked Sam in the arm. Sam grumbled out a whiney, "What!?" 

"So, uh, what's she wearing?" Mike asked him. 

Sam lifted his head off the table, confusion clear on his face as he looked straight ahead, then over at Mike, "What the hell are you talking about!? What is _who_ wearing!?" 

Mike looked at him like he was daft, "Stacy!" 

Sam glared, "How the hell should I know! Maybe she's going naked. Ask her!" he groused, letting his head fall back down on the table. 

"She didn't tell you?" Mike asked him sounding surprised. 

"Why would she tell me?" Sam mumbled. 

"Uh, cause you're taking her to homecoming." 

Sam picked his head up and looked at Mike, "I am? News to me. I told her I wasn't going. You wanna know so bad, you take her." 

Mike smiled wide at him then, "Really, man? You don't mind?" 

Sam frowned, "Why the hell should I mind?"

Sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, Dean gave an amused smile, though he steadfastly ignored Alice's dare that he ask Sam. It was bad enough they'd be seeing more of each other over the next two weeks. There would have to be a library trip or two, and...

Mike shrugged, "Well, you and Stacy are..." he shrugged, "She told me she kissed you." 

Sam huffed, "Oh for crying out loud!" his head fell back onto the table. "Goodbye, Mike." he mumbled loudly, trying to give the guy a hint.

Dean lost his smile and got up suddenly. He couldn't stand the images he was getting from Mike's mind, of Sam pressing Stacy up against his car. No, not even against Sam's car, he was imagining the Lamborghini. Clenching his fists, he strode out of the cafeteria, leaving his tray for his siblings to clear.

* * *

Sam walked out of the school and into the student parking lot, his backpack thrown over one shoulder. His eyes flickered over the Cullen family as they stood there, each beside a very expensive, very nice car. "Must be nice to have more money than you know what to do with," Sam muttered under his breath as he walked, shaking his head slightly. 

He fixed his gaze on his car, his baby, parked way in the back under one of the giant oaks, sitting all alone. He'd sort of claimed that spot after his first day and the run in with Dean Cullen. Sure it was way out, but at least no one would be running into his car and denting it. 

Half way across the parking lot, he heard her voice and his steps quickened. _Please don't let her see me, please don't let her see me._ It was almost sad that he nearly hid from Stacy now, but after what Mike said... he wasn't too keen on her telling everyone she had kissed him. Hell, it wasn't like it had been mutual, or he had wanted it. 

Making his way to his car, Sam fished out his keys and unlocked the driver side door, tossing his bag inside.

It wasn't just Dean's eyes that followed Sam today. His brothers and sisters watched him cross the lot as well, before looking away to talk. Seeing Stacy, Dean tensed, wondering if they were about to be treated to the sight of Sam and her kissing. His mood started to darken like the skies, when he felt a change in the air, a sudden charge electrifying the air. 

The jagged bolt of lightning split the sky in two, flashing so bright many closed their eyes. A few screams rent the air, though most had no time to react before the bolt struck right next to the oak tree.

This was the day Dean learned he was faster than lightning. He was in Sam's face, throwing him out of the way and taking the hit. His body arched back, his teeth rattled, and for the first time in many years, he felt extreme pain to the point he might wish for a permanent death. And then it was over, and he staggered and collapsed to the ground, next to where he'd thrown Sam. 

A new fear gripped him. Had he thrown him too hard? Humans broke so fucking easily. But no, he could hear his heart. And thank God, he didn't smell blood.

Sam raised his head slowly off the ground, as he raised a hand to the back of his head, then looked over at... "Dean!"  
Sam hurriedly scrambled to Dean's side, looking down at him. His hand cupped the side of Dean's face, as hazel eye searched for any injury he could see. "Holy hell, are you okay, man?" Sam asked him softly.

"You almost get toasted by lighting and you're worried about me?" His tone clearly implied Sam was foolish. Gripping Sam’s wrist, he controlled himself, but just barely, as he pulled Sam's hand away to a safer distance where his pulse wouldn't wreak havoc with his senses. He got up, felt his family’s eyes staring daggers into his back, and wondered whether he would regret the decision he'd made.

Sam opened his mouth and closed it again, watched as Dean just got up off the ground like getting hit by lightening was nothing. Sam hurriedly pulled to his feet. "But you, you got hit." Sam's eyes roamed over Dean. "I saw it. I know you got hit." Sam reached out, tugged open Dean's leather jacket, looking for signs of injury. Burns, blisters, something, anything.

"Right. Cause I'm Superman," he mocked, throwing Sam's own words back at him and trying to clamp down on any sense of panic, that there would be a scene and his family would have to leave. "Copped enough of a feel to be satisfied I'm fine?" 

Sam pulled his hand away as though he'd been burned. "Sorry." he muttered, as he turned toward his car, then stopped and looked back at Dean, "How'd you get over here so fast anyway?"

"What? I was right here," Dean shrugged. He was about to say more when Stacy reached them.

He knew who her "are you okay's" were for, and merely nodded and headed away from them.

"Sam! It looked like you got hit, oh my God... I thought you were dead." Her voice trembled, and other students started to gather around. Even teachers who'd gotten word of what happened were running out of the building to make sure the new student was fine.

Sam watched Dean walk away from him and huffed. He was _so_ not right here. Sam had seen him, standing all the way across the parking lot with his family. There was no way he was over here. And there was no way he had followed him without Sam's knowing it. He was a better hunter than that. 

Tearing his gaze away, Sam looked down at Stacy, nodding, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine. It was just close," he glanced back up at Dean's retreating form before looking down at her again, "that's all," he told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a slight squeeze. 

As the crowd started to gather Sam swore under his breath, "Get in the car." 

"What?" Stacy asked him. 

"Just, get in the car." he told her, releasing her, and turning to open his car door. 

Sam didn't like crowds. Crowds drew attention and attention got you busted as to what and who you were. Dad always said that. Even if he was in school and he knew these faces, all of them in one place, all looking at him, it made him feel trapped. It just wasn't a good thing. Hell, before long, they'd call his great-aunt and then probably his Dad. And then all hell would break loose when they found out what his father was, what he was. Probably have them both locked up in the local asylum. 

Sliding behind the wheel, Sam sped out of the parking lot, glancing over at Stacy. "Where do you live? I'll take you home. I just had to get out of there. It's... a family thing."

Dean drove in reverse, weaving between some of the students and making a u-turn to roar out of the lot right behind Sam. Stuck behind him at the traffic light, he tapped on his steering wheel, staring at the back of their heads, reading her mind all too clearly. She was shifting in her seat and unbuttoning a button, trying to catch Sam’s eyes. Dean wished the light would change, that they'd get out of his sight.

But no, they stayed right there. Right where he could hear her plans for Sam The couch. Music. Low lights. "Fucking hell." As soon as Sam started to move the car, Dean zoomed around him, going into the oncoming traffic lane to overtake him and get the hell out of there before someone died. 

Sam glanced over at the car that roared up beside his own, seeing it was the Lamborghini, Dean's car, Sam glanced again. What the hell was he doing? Where was the fire now? He slowed the Impala enough to let Dean get in front of him, so he didn't cause an accident. "What the hell is _his_ problem?" Sam grumbled, frowning hard as his eyes followed Dean's car. 

He glanced over at Stacy, "So turn left where again?" he asked her, pretending not to notice the slip of lace from her bra now showing.

"Next street," she answered, moving her knee over so her thigh rested against his. "Guess what?" She tilted her face toward him. "It's your lucky day."

Sam frowned slightly. Lucky? Not really. Luck hadn't saved him from a lightening bolt. Dean Cullen had, no matter if he wanted to admit it or not. 

Sam glanced at Stacy, "Yeah? Why's that?" he asked her, moving his leg away from hers slightly trying to not give her any ideas.

"My mom made peach cobbler. She makes the best cobbler in town, won awards and everything. And she's not home. Pull up right here," she pointed at the drive way. "Carry my books for me?" Without giving him a chance to answer, she put the stack in his lap.

Sam sighed as he looked from her, as she slid from the car, to the books in his lap. This was _so_ not what he had had in mind when he said he'd drive her home. Stop at the house, make sure she got in, pull away. Those had been his plans. Not going in for cobbler and... he didn't even want to hazard a guess at what else. 

With a huff, he turned off the car and grabbed her books as he opened his car door. He followed her in and set the books down on a table near the door. "I really ought to be going. I have that project in English to start and my room to clean and my great aunt, she makes dinner and if I'm not there..." he was babbling, trying to think of reasons why he needed to go, as he shifted his weight nervously. 

_You wanna save me Dean Cullen? Save me from Stacy!_

"It's early, come on Sam..." She took his hand and tried to drag him inside. "Besides, you really think if you call Dean Cullen over to your place to start the project, he'll be there?" Laughing, she shook her head. "No one's good enough for the Cullens. You stay here long enough, and you'll know."

Call Dean? Hell, he hadn't even gotten his number. No, he was just going to work on it alone. In his room. Like he did everything else.

"Yeah, well, still. My aunt..." Sam finally let her drag him further into the house.

"It's okay, Sam. It's just you and me. No crowds," she told him as she turned and smiled up at him, leaning in toward him as she did. 

Sam took a step back, hand on her shoulder. "Stacy, really. Mike likes you, you should have him over for cobbler. He's a good guy. Me, I'm a loner. I sit in my room most of the time," he shrugged, "I think you have the wrong guy over."

"I don't think so." Even as he backed away from her she vowed she'd make him see her in a different light. He was too good to pass up. Handsome, smart... and probably a way out of this two bit town if things got serious. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride." 

Sam smiled at her and nodded, "Sure. No problem." he told her, taking a couple more steps backward, before turning and making a beeline for the door. 

Once in his car, Sam sighed in relief, slumping over his steering wheel, before he picked his head up and started backing out of the drive way. 

On his way home he kept an eye out for the Lamborghini, but never saw it. The fact souring his mood by the time he reached home.

* * *

It was twilight, the time vampires felt most at ease. If he was gonna do this, now was the time. Parked on Cathleen Wood's driveway, Dean flipped open his cell phone and dialed the number he'd learned by heart. His gaze was focused on the upstairs window. He could hear Sam moving around in there, could hear the strange huffing sounds he made whenever he was frustrated. Course it only made Dean burn with the desire to find out what had the teenager wound up, an answer he couldn't simply pull out of Sam's head... dammit.

Sam sat on his bed, knees bent, back leaned against the head board of his bed, head bowed over the tablet of paper on his lap. He had planned to try to work on the magazine he and Dean had to create, but all he could think about was _Dean_. He hadn't seen him on his way home, and Stacy's flirtations and the way she kept looking at him, only made him wonder, no, _wish_ that it had been Dean looking at him like that. Flirting with him like that. The sound of his cell vibrating against the wooden top of his night stand drew Sam's attention. 

With a sigh, he put the pencil between his teeth and reached for the phone. ' _Unknown Caller_ '. Sam frowned at the cell, before clicking it open and pulling the pencil from between his lips. "Uh, hello?"

"It's Dean."

"Dean?" He was shocked to find that it was Dean Cullen on the other end of the line. Hazel eyes widening, Sam sat up straighter in the bed, long legs falling to a cross-legged position.

"Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to get together on the project." Dean smirked, "right now."

"Where are you?"

"At your place."


	3. Chapter 3

"You're here?!" Sam asked, looking around the room, and frowning at himself for doing so. He bounded off the bed and went to the window, pulling back the lacy curtain. There in the drive, Dean's Lamborghini. "I'll be right down...there...down, down there. Bye!" Sam flipped his cell closed, tossing it onto the bed as he hurried from the room.

Within seconds, Dean was at the front door, hoping to hell Sam's enthusiasm wasn't going to last. The last thing he needed was sudden movements, or the sound of a too fast beating heart ... or a thousand other things that could go wrong. It was so humid, he was wiping the moisture clinging to his face off when the door opened. 

Immediately, Dean felt the heat emanating from Sam and took in his high color. Keeping his distance, he nodded, "can I come in?" Even when Sam pulled the door open wider, he waited for him to move away. 

Dean Cullen was here, standing on _his_ doorstep. It wasn't until after Dean asked to come in that Sam realized he was staring and blinked before dropping his gaze to the floor. "Uh, yeah, sure," answered as he waved Dean into the house with a sweep of his arm. 

As he watched Dean walk into the house, Sam mentally berated himself about his uncouthness. Dean probably thought he was a total moron. _Just give the guy the creeps next time, Winchester._ Sam frowned at himself and cleared his throat as he closed the door. Turning back to face Dean, Sam licked his lips. "So, uh, what are you doing around here?" 

"Must not listen well, huh?" Seeing Sam's blank look, he wondered whether the human had even listened to him on the phone. He'd hung up so fast it was possible he hadn't been. "Project?" Dean lifted his notebook up to remind Sam. "If it's a bad time, we can meet tomorrow after school." 

Sam's eyes slid from Dean's perfect face to the notebook he held. _Right. The project. He had said that on the phone. Dammit. Stop acting like such an ass, Sam. You're gonna freak him the hell out._ Sam nodded, "The project, yeah, I, uh, knew that." He licked his lips before looking down and shaking his head. 'Naw, it's not a bad time. I was just, uh, trying to work on it myself in my room." 

Seeing various expressions chase across Sam's features, Dean wanted to demand he tell him what he was thinking. He hated that Sam was a puzzle... he hated that he was an interesting puzzle ... one that Dean was quickly and dangerously becoming almost obsessed with unraveling. 

Sam glanced toward the stairs and back at Dean, "You, uh, wanna go to my room?" He asked, then grimaced, _Okay, that was dumb._ "With me." he added, _And that sounds even worse. Nothing like asking if you can jump him in your bedroom._ , he grimaced again, "I mean to work on the project." Sam mentally rolled his eyes at himself.

Lifting his eyebrows and nodding his head to the side in a half shrug as Sam stated the obvious, Dean passed him and walked to the stairs. Even though he was biting the inner part of his lip, his mouth curved up in an amused smile. 

Sam huffed softly, as followed Dean to the stairs, "Uh, go ahead," he waved an arm up the stairs. "They're a lot more sturdy than they look," he muttered, suddenly wishing that his great aunt’s house didn't look like it was about to crumble in on itself. Nervously fidgeting when they reached the door, Sam reached from behind Dean and pushed open his bedroom door, letting Dean go first. 

Quietly, he closed the door behind them, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Dean, not saying anything as his eyes traveled over Dean's form. He was so beautiful, so perfect. And Sam was certain Dean had been hit by lightening and just walked away from it, like it was nothing. After a few moments, Sam caught himself staring and tore his gaze away, looking down at the floor and clearing his throat.

The room was so fucking small, and the closed windows only sealed in Sam's scent, making it much more concentrated. For a full moment, Dean thought about diving out of the room and never coming back. This idea of exposing himself to temptation to see if he could somehow desensitize himself to this particular boy's scent, his allure... it seemed crazy now. So fucking crazy when their eyes locked and he knew Sam wouldn't fight him. He'd seen hunger in his eyes too. He could hear his blood rush... sing... call him.

Licking his lips, he staggered back as far as he could get, "you were working there, go ahead," he said nodding toward the bed. "Mind if I open the window?" He didn't wait for permission, but went ahead and pushed it up. Pulling the single chair right next to the window, he sat down and tried to get a hold of himself... to control his need. 

Sam let his arms drop as he slowly walked toward the bed. He didn't get the chance to answer about the window before Dean was opening it, not that he really cared, though it made him frown slightly. _Was there something wrong with the way his room smelled?_ He tried to sniff the air, without seeming like he was, but couldn't smell anything. Crap. What the hell... Maybe it was musty. Aunt Cathleen hadn’t been using this room in a while. Maybe he had gotten used to the smell, but Dean wasn't. 

"My aunt, she didn't use this room much before. Uh, I tried to air it out before, sorry if it's still stuffy," Sam muttered as he took a seat on his bed, drawing his legs up as he grabbed the tablet of paper placing it on his knees.  
He looked over at Dean again, hazel eyes traveling over the other guy’s form, searching for a sign that he wasn't losing his mind, that he had indeed suffered some sort of injury from the lightning bolt. It wasn't that Sam wanted him to be hurt, he didn't...but if he wasn't, then it made no sense. His mind went back to his father's journal about the supernatural creature's they had hunted together. _No. No way._ Sam frowned at himself. This obsession of making everything he didn't understand right off into something supernatural was crazy. He needed to get a grip. Dean Cullen was not supernatural. Couldn't be.

"It's... not that." Forcing the words out, Dean flipped his notebook open and made himself look at it, instead of at Sam, as he started to tell him some of his ideas. It took every last shred of control he had to keep his ass in his chair, to keep his distance, to concentrate on something other than how much he wanted to taste Sam Winchester. 

At first, it was hard as hell. Later, as their conversation got more animated and they started to argue and negotiate over what would go into the project, it was _still_ hard as hell, but Dean thought he'd regained a lot of his control. There was one thing that might help him some, but how would he go about telling the human to stop parting his lips like that, or to stop sticking the eraser end of his pencil in his mouth?

"Okay, I think using pictures in sepia is a great idea, It will give the magazine and authentic old world feel to it," he agreed looking up and catching Sam looking at him. Dammit, he wanted to know what was in Sam's head, what he was thinking when he looked at him. 

Sam eyed Dean as he sat there, the eraser of his pencil between his lips, head tilted down as he looked up from under his brows at the guy. "Mm-hm." Sam agreed, but just kept staring, the events at school replaying in his head over and over again. There was no possible way he could be wrong and if he wasn't then Dean couldn't be 'just a normal guy'. Shit! Maybe he should call his Dad to see what he thought he had stumbled onto. Even as he thought it, Sam erased the very thought from his mind. He knew his Dad. Knew John Winchester would be all over Dean Cullen and his family. No, he couldn't let anything happen to Dean... why exactly, he wasn't even sure himself. It wasn't like Dean seemed to give a rats ass about him.

"What are you thinking?" The demand echoed the single thought that had been on Dean's mind for too long. Seeing Sam's nostrils flare slightly, he stilled, not knowing what the hell to expect, yet dying to know.

Sam's eyes narrowed as he pulled the pencil slowly away from his mouth, licked his lips. "What?" Sam shook his head, "What makes you think..." Sam moved then, his long legs sliding out in front of him before swung them over the side of the bed, facing Dean. He sat there, on the edge of his bed, hazel eyes looking into green/gold. “You get hit by lightening and then just walk away like it's nothing. How? And don't tell me that I imagined it. I know better, Dean. Tell me how. I saw it. I saw you," Sam said him, voice low, intense as his eyes searched Dean's unflinching.

Dammit. Weren't human minds supposed to come up with ways to explain the unexplainable? Yet this one was challenging him on what happened, and clinging to what he'd seen. "You think I got hit by lightning and walked away. That would make me an _it_ , wouldn't it?" Dean raised his chin. "Only a fool would invite something that could survive lightning up to his room alone. You don't strike me as a fool."  
Sam raised an eyebrow, "I know of only a few things that could do something like that. Seeing as I can't see through you and I've touched you and you feel pretty solid, that counts that one out. The other," Sam moved slightly closer, barely remaining on the bed. "Christo?"

"You think I'm Jesus?" Snickering, Dean shook his head. "I guess I should be flattered." He was more than aware that Sam had closed some of the distance between them, but he felt as if he was in control of himself at the moment.

Sam frowned. Well, he obviously wasn't a demon. "No, I don't think you're Jesus," he told him as hazel eyes swept over his form. "That leaves werewolf and vampire. So which is it? Do you eat raw flesh or drink blood, Dean Cullen?" Sam asked him, quirking a brow.

Dean's eyes darkened. "Do you really expect me to answer that, Sam Winchester." If he thought these things, if he believed in monsters, why wasn't he running out that door screaming? Why was this boy sitting there and talking about it as if it was an every day event?

He could see Sam had an answer, but before he voiced it... before Sam could even hear it, Dean heard Sam's phone start to vibrate. Leaning forward only a little, he saw the name flashing on the front of his phone. "It's your girlfriend again. Guess she didn't get enough of you this afternoon." In a fluid motion, Dean collected all his stuff and practically shot out the door without seeming to run.

Sam's eyes widened, before he looked over at the nightstand. "Huh?" Sure enough, as Sam leaned over toward his cell, Stacy's name was flashing on the caller ID. Damn it to hell.   
Sam looked back toward Dean, "She didn't get enough... what?" But Dean was gone, up and out the door ... unless he went out the window. He’d been looking at his cell andhadn't seen Dean leave. 

Without answering his cell, Sam pulled to his feet and walked to the window and watched the Lamborghini pull out of his driveway. "Dean! Dammit!" he swore, raising a hand to slam his palm against the wall near the window before letting his forehead fall to rest against the cool glass. 

"It's not hard, Dean." Sam whispered, "I'll figure out which one you are."

* * *

Sam walked sleepily from the bathroom back into his bedroom, his thoughts filled with one thing, one person, Dean Cullen. Dean's face, the way he moved, the way he sounded, his eyes. Black as night, or green/gold. Was he a werewolf? Sam shook his head. Vampire? Vampire's could certainly get along here in this overcast nightmare of a town where the sun seems to have forgotten to ever shine, except for brief glimpses, before the next rain fall. 

Reaching a hand out, Sam tugged back the soft cotton blanket and sheet, before slipping into bed and covering up. He never slept with more on than a pair of boxers and a tee, and sometimes not even the tee. Tonight was one of those nights. It was warm up here in his room, the air muggy as it blew lightly into the room every so often. 

Sam lay in his bed, staring at the chair Dean had vacated only hours before. It was earlier than he normally went to sleep, but he couldn't think of homework anymore. The only thing he could think of was Dean Cullen. Slowly Sam closed his eyes. "I’ll find out, Dean." he whispered softly into his empty room, a small smile curving his lips.

*  
[Dream]

The fog rolled in, swirling around thick as a blanket. No light penetrated through it, not even the moonlight which merely gave it an eerie glow. It was silent, except for the lapping of water against rock and sand in a distance. 

Sam walked through the fog, lost and disoriented by the thickness of it. Unable to even see his hand in front of his face now that even the moon disappeared. His hightop sneakers made no sound as he walked through the night, slowly, quietly, carefully. Like he was taught, like a hunter seeking his prey. 

Dean sat in the middle of it all, on a chair with a high back, his legs spread wide. Waiting. Knowing _he'd_ come. That he couldn't help himself. He'd be curious. Thirsty for knowledge. Hungry... 

The fog swirled and cleared before Sam, seeming to part like a curtain of clouds, exposing the figure sitting in the chair. 

Sam glanced behind him back toward the sounds of water lapping against the rocks, before looking back as he took a step forward, then another, slightly slanted hazel eyes focused on the eyes seated boy. "D - Dean..." Sam's voice was soft, husky as he approached.

"Did you figure it out yet?" Dean's gaze pierced right through Sam as he demanded an answer. 

Sam glanced up at the night sky with its hidden moon, before looking back at Dean and shaking his head. "Doesn't matter which you are. You are... something. Something supernatural," Sam told him as he continued to step closer.

"Is that a catchall phrase?" Dean’s eyes darkened. "You could be Little Red Riding Hood, and I... I could be the big bad wolf." He bared sharp teeth. 

Sam stopped in front of Dean, looking down at him. "Yeah? Does that mean you're gonna eat me?" Sam asked softly. 

There was dead silence.

"Go ahead. Do it." Sam told him, as one hand clenched and unclenched into a fist, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he watched Dean. _Vampire._ Sam swallowed, but stood his ground, unwilling to back down. "Well? Meal's gettin' cold. Come on, eat me."

"Come closer," Dean answered in a silky smooth voice, speaking so low, Sam would have to strain to hear. "You're afraid. I can hear your heart."

Sam frowned, as he watched Dean, barely caught his words. Slowly, Sam took one more step so that he was standing so close his shin's hit the edge of the chair Dean sat in. He swallowed hard, jaw clamped shut tightly nostrils flared slightly as he breathed in deeply, watching Dean. 

Sam shook his head. "Not afraid, You won't hurt me. If you were going to, you already would have."

"You should be." Dean looked up. Seconds slipped away, but he was motionless... like stone. It was just the two of them. He could do anything he wanted to Sam, and no one would know. Sam had to know that.

Snaking his hands out, he ran them up and down the sides of Sam's legs, then to his ass, dragging him slightly closer. "Still not afraid?" he practically sneered, hearing Sam's heart kick up a notch.

Sam tried to huff, but it came out more like a gasp of breath before he shook his head. "No." he licked his lips, "I'm not afraid. In my life, I've learned that you can't be afraid... not ever. Of anything," Sam told him softly.

"Fear is an instinct. It’s necessary to self preservation." Dean ran one palm up Sam's abs, the other over his back, holding him in a vice-like grip. "By ignoring it, maybe you just walked into the spider's web." His fingers to toyed with the the wastband of Sam's jeans, right above his zipper. 

Sam's breath hitched, before he could hide his reactions. Licking his lips, Sam squeezed his hands into fists at his sides, swallowed. "Maybe I like spiders," he suggested, eyes locked with Dean's. 

Sam sucked in his stomach a bit more, as he lowered his head slowly to look down at the hand on his stomach, the fingers toying with his zipper. Slowly he raised his head again, looking into Dean's eyes, shadowed by the darkness. "Do you... always play... with your food?"

"Only when my food gets turned on. Is this turning you on, Sam?" He ran his palm down over Sam's zipper, then suddenly cupped him, biting his lip as he felt Sam's instant reaction... his cock filling his palm. 

Sam gasped, bit his lip as his eyes closed for a sec and he opened them again. "You... need to ask?" he asked Dean, breathlessly.

"I need an answer. Or are you afraid to answer out loud?" He squeezed him again, surprised by the length of Sam's shaft.

Sam groaned softly, his hips bucking forward pressing his arousal into Dean's palm. "Yes. God, yes. Fuck." Sam told him, his head tilting back as he bit his lip, hands squeezed into fists so tight his knuckles were white.

The answer was everything Dean hoped for, so heated, so anguished... so fucking unguarded even in the face of possible death. Hooking his fingers into Sam's waistband, he tugged him forward, forcing him to straddle him and sit on his lap. So warm... Sam was so warm, his face and throat flushed, making Dean wonder how he'd look in the throes of sex. "Take off your shirt," he said gruffly, working Sam's fly, and opening it up.

One moment he'd been standing there in front of Dean, the next... Sam blinked, then moved to do as he'd been told, pulling his shirt up and over his head and dropping it onto the ground. He fought not to reach out and pull Dean up against him, to crush his lips to Dean's, to taste him and feel him. Instead, he sat perfectly still and waited, hazel eyes watching every movement Dean made.

Dean ran his palms up and down Sam's slender waist, his abs... his broad chest. He felt him shiver under his touch, felt his muscles tightening. "You need to breathe. I can't play with my food if it expires on me," a smirk played on his mouth. 

Sam's eyelids had lowered, mere slits of hazel as he gazed at Dean's hands running over his body. His breaths started to quicken before he stopped breathing, breath catching in his throat, straight white teeth catching his full bottom lip, biting down on the soft tender flesh. 

_Breathe?_ Hm? Oh, yeah, right. Sam sucked in a gasp of air as his lips parted. 

"Why are you here? Why would you let me do this?" Dean asked, lifting his knees so Sam slid forward all the way forward, their groins colliding... hard. He just barely bit back a hiss at the heat that shot clear through his system.

Sam groaned and he bit his lip once more. Hm? Why... As the question registered, Sam smiled almost drunkenly, his hips moving against Dean's slowly. "Because, I - I want to be here. Want...this." Sam told him softly before moaning low. 

"You sure about that?" Dean bared his teeth again, this time letting Sam get a clear view of his fangs. "How about now?" His hands flat against Sam's back, he was slowly forcing him closer, his gaze never wavering from Sam's face. 

Sam nodded slowly, "Yeah," he ground his groin harder against Dean's, "I am," he answered on a gasp. He could feel himself getting closer to Dean, could feel his heart beating faster, though Sam wasn't sure if it was due to excitement or fear. "I'm," Sam swallowed, his gaze fixed on Dean's pointed incisors, "I'm sure." Sam shook his head slightly, the muscle in his jaw twitching again, "You won't hurt me., he insisted softly even as his hand reached out to grab the back of the chair, a small gasp leaving him at the sight of the vampire fangs growing closer and closer as he was pulled slowly against Dean.

Catching the first flash of real fear in Sam's eyes, Dean whispered, "too late." 

All of a sudden, there wasn't any space separating them, none. They're bodies touched from groin to chest, pressing, straining closer. Winding his fingers into Sam's soft hair, he pulled back roughly, forcing him to expose the milky column of his throat. Mesmerized, he watched Sam's Adam's apple move as he swallowed, and then he pressed his mouth over it. He sucked hard, desensitizing the area a bit, before scraping his sharp teeth across his skin... pressing them down, just short of piercing into Sam. 

Sam's breaths panted out through parted lips, eyes wide as he waited, heart pounding in his chest. Both hands gripped the chair, grip slipping, moving along the expensive fabric surface.

He played with Sam another long moment, threatening to bite the way Sam might be expecting, but the urges of his own body got to be too much. Moving suddenly, he pulled Sam's face closer, welding their mouths together in a fiery kiss... never holding still, always moving his mouth, back and forth, hard and soft, his tongue weaving in and out of Sam's mouth, finally tasting him. More. He needed more, and he took it. It was his right... Sam had walked up to him, had volunteered. 

He started to lift his hips, grinding against Sam's ass. "Come on. Show me how much you want this," he said thickly, clenching his abs as Sam's arousal pressed against him. 

Sam groaned, hips thrusting back against Dean, moving against him, seeking the friction his body craved. Breathing labored, lips slightly parted, damp and red from the harsh kiss. "Dean... want it... want you." Sam's hands moved from the chair to Dean's shoulder's his upper back. "You won't hurt me." he whispered.

"You've got too much faith in someone you don't know." Dean grit out, adding, "from _something_ you don't know." When Sam still didn't try to get away, something snapped in Dean. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you."

Cupping the back of Sam's head and his ass, Dean easily dragged Sam down over him again, fusing their mouths together. If Sam had no clue before about how strong he was, he did now... because nothing could break Dean's hold, nothing could stop him from the single minded way he was rhythmically pushing Sam's ass forward, raising his hips and fucking up against him, creating friction between them at an unrelenting pace. His pace.

His mouth was no gentler... taking what he needed, what he'd wanted for days. Easily pushing Sam's head from side to side, moving him where he wanted, when he wanted, as he tongue fucked him again and again, pushing inside the hot, moist sheath of his mouth, exploring every corner... taking his mouth, as surely as he'd take him in a few moments.

Sam was on fire. He was drowning and it was a damn good way to die. His breaths came hot and hard, as he tried to keep up with Dean's pace, his kiss, his aggressiveness. But, soon he was pressing a hand against Dean's shoulder, needing air, needing a break. Just for a second. 

A small whimper escaped him as he ground himself back against Dean, one hand, the one that wasn't pushing, was gripping Dean, and holding him tightly. _Don't stop. Gotta stop, just for a second. Need to get my breath. No, don't stop. He's gonna think you're scared._ Another small whimper left him as he stopped pushing against Dean, and instead wrapped that arm around him. Fuck it. He needed this, wanted this more. 

Sam's hips moved as hard and fast as he could, keeping up with Dean's pace. Heat started to coil low in his belly and Sam's eyes shot open. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! No, he was not going to come in his pants the first damn time... no! The arm around Dean, pulled back again, palm pressing against Dean's chest as Sam tried to tear his lips away. Tried to tell him he needed to stop.

Hell no, Dean wasn't having that. Sam had wanted to play in the big league, and there was ‘no stopping’ in the big league. Dean didn't give him an inch. Even when he felt Sam running out of breath, he didn't stop. He knew that alone could push Sam over the edge... and he wanted to push him, to watch him fall, to be there to pick up the broken pieces.

He forced Sam to ride him harder, feeling his cock rubbing like a hot iron brand against his stomach... knowing Sam was close, that he wouldn't be able to fight it much longer. As he felt Sam's heart start to stutter, he broke the kiss and said one word. "Come." 

Sam had so not wanted to do this. Not like this. He had a million ideas for how it should go, and this wasn't one of them. He squeezed his eyes closed, tried to think of every severed head he and his Dad had seen, tried to think of something, anything. But all he could see was Dean. His face, his eyes, his body. All he could feel was his body against Dean's and all he could taste was Dean. Fuck! Sam's eyes opened as he gasped in a deep breath, grit his teeth, a half growl, half scream tearing from deep inside him. 

Sam's fingers suddenly bit into his shoulders. His entire body shuddered, and Dean memorized every sensation, every way Sam rocked against him, every sound he made. He had what he wanted... Sam falling apart right in front of his eyes, and hell ... he was finding it hard to hold back his own release. He bit down on his lower lip, forcing himself to enjoy Sam's climax instead his own. 

Sam's eyes had closed at some point along the line, when he wasn't even sure, his body trembled slightly as his head now hung, his hands slowly moving to rest flat on Dean's shoulders. 

But, it was then that the stupid stack of book in the corner fell... Sam frowned. Stack of books? There were no stack of books outside, they were.... 

He opened his eyes slowly to find that he was looking up at the ceiling of his room. He huffed at himself, raising up on one elbow to look through the darkness. The pile of books, some his, some the schools, had managed to somehow not only tumble over, but scatter as if someone had kicked them. 

Sighing, he dropped back down against his pillow. It was Probably him in his stupid dreaming and thrashing, maybe he’d banged the paper thin walls and made stuff shake. He rolled over with a groan and was about to stop listening when he thought he heard footsteps across the concrete walkway below. He jumped out of the bed suddenly and went to the window, looking out.

Leaning his forehead against the window, Sam huffed. "You better hope to hell no one was witness to your having a wet dream, dude, or you’ll be the laughing stock of the school." He continued to mutter to himself as he walked sleepily to the bathroom.

Downstairs, clinging to the shadows, Dean's eyes burned with an unholy light as he stared up at the window, his fingers biting into the bark of a tree. "Wet dream..." So that's what that had been. All he knew was that he'd innocently slipped inside Sam's room, wanting to expose himself to his scent again so school wouldn't be so hard tomorrow. He'd figured out that it made it easier to bear... to resist when there weren't big gaps of time where they were far apart. It was based on the theory that the reason Carlisle could stand to be around blood was that he was surrounded by its sight and scent at the hospital.

Dean had meant to stay only a few minutes. To maybe borrow a used shirt... or find something else he could take home with him, when everything had changed. Sam was no longer as still as the dead. His breathing was no longer rhythmic, his heart beat... suddenly unsteady. Frowning, Dean had moved closer to investigate, and then he'd been lost. The sounds of irregular breathing, the tiny moans... the thrashing limps... holy fuck, the sight of Sam's bare chest when he'd thrown his covers off had almost been Dean's undoing. 

He'd gripped the end table so hard, he wouldn't be surprised if he'd left deep grooves. All he knew was that it wasn't just the need for Sam's blood, but he'd been struck by equally strong emotions... ones he'd never felt before. His gaze had kept being drawn to Sam's arousal, straining under the thin material of his boxers... then up to his face. He'd needed... needed so bad to touch him, he'd even leaned over him about to press his lips over Sam's mouth. Then a deeper groan had broken from Sam and Dean had no idea how to cope with the sudden force of desire slamming into him.

Sure he was going to hurt Sam if he stayed there an instant longer, he'd staggered back and kicked over a pile of books, before disappearing through the window. Now, still standing under Sam's window, he licked his mouth... imagining how Sam tasted. Wondering if he could make him make those sounds. Right... Stacy probably had dibs on that.

His eyes suddenly went black. Turning, he ran... ran so fast no human eye could track him. He had to get away from Sam, before ... he just had to get away.

* * *  
To say that Sam had been disappointed to not see Dean in third period would have been an understatement. It had not only been disappointing, but there had been a slight sense of panic that had hit him as he had remembered confronting Dean about what he might be. 

Sam blinked a few times and tried to focus on Stacy as she sat across from him chatting away about how she was doing the Civil War project with Mike and how she would much rather be doing something romantic like Romeo and Juliet. He nodded a few times, before tearing his gaze away from her face, not that it was all that wonderful to look at, at least not to him, not anymore, he had simply been watching her mouth move, remembering the taste and feel of Dean's in his dream. 

Looking down at his book and papers in front of him, Sam cast sidelong glances at Dean's empty seat. _Where are you?_ Finally, Sam looked up at chatty Kathy, otherwise known as Stacy and sighed, "Look, Kathy," he closed his eyes and shook his head, before opening his eyes again, "I mean, Stacy, I'm really kinda busy here. I'm sorry, but I can't concentrate and talk right now. Haven't been sleeping so well. Sorry," he forced a smile for her, trying to be nice.  
Watched as she slowly rose from the seat and walked away, her hips swaying far too much to be the normal way she walked, Sam shook his head as he looked back down. "Keep that up and you're gonna dislocate something’," he muttered under his breath as he continued to work on the project. 

Lunch wasn't much better. It seemed any chance Stacy got, she used it to either chat his ear off, or hang on him like a cheap suit. Sam sighed as he sat at the table, laying his head on his folder, eyes closed as Stacy rubbed his back and shoulders, talking away about what, he had no idea. All Sam knew was that he was tired and every time he closed his damn eyes, visions of Dean Cullen swam in his brain.

Dean, Alice, Jasper and Rosalie walked into the cafeteria, their strides almost in unison. Three of them looked straight ahead toward the table in their corner, but Dean looked over at Sam, his features hardening when he saw Stacy's hands all over Sam. They hardened even more when he read her mind. "Sonovabitch," he muttered under his breath, ignoring Alice's hand on his arm.

Sam's eyes were closed, sleep just starting to drift in, when Mike thumped him on the top of the head. 

Sam picked his head up off the table, glaring at Mike. "What the hell...?"

Mike nodded toward the Cullens, "Tall, pale and goodie-goodie, at two o'clock, man."

Sam frowned, "Huh?" he turned his head, looking over his shoulder to find Dean and his sisters, but only one of his brothers, sitting there. Shrugging off Stacy's caresses, Sam pulled from his seat, took a slow step forward, before running his hands down the sides of his jeans. His strides more sure, Sam walked over, stopping before their table. "You, uh, you weren't in English," he told Dean, as if he wasn't aware of that fact himself.

Practically every pair of eyes in the large room was focused on Sam. No one ever walked up to the Cullen table. He was a newby, he hadn't learned... didn't know the rules. Whatever happened, the kids were sure it would be interesting. Even the sound levels went down, no more trays crashed against tables, and no one was shouting to get other students' attention.

Dean looked coolly back at him, needing for him to get the hell away right now. Last night... what he'd seen... what he'd felt, it was all too fresh in his mind. He needed time to regain full control over his senses, and Sam Winchester ... fuck, did he have to push the envelope? Where was his sense of fear or self preservation? Where?

Gripping the edge of his seat, Dean answered. "And?"

Sam licked his lips, glanced at one of Dean's sisters. A cute little brunette who was smiling kindly up at him. He forced himself to smile, somewhat awkwardly back at her, before returning his gaze to Dean. _Yeah, Winchester, and?_ he asked himself. "Uh, there was a lot of work we needed to do. You, left so fast last night. Before we finished... anything. I... it would have been nice if you had been in class," Sam stammered, before once again glancing at the only friendly face at the table, glad to see at least _she_ was still smiling up at him.

"You want _nice_ , go see your girlfriend." He knew he was being mean, but what did it take to make Sam get the hell away for a while? Anyone else would have been insulted and walked off by now, dammit.

Alice finally spoke up. "Dean's not feeling well. Maybe later would be a better time." She pressed her thigh into Jasper's hoping he would influence Sam's mood and make him accept rather than to keep challenging Dean right now.

Jasper didn't smile, but he did look at Sam, trying to send waves of calmness toward him. Once the guy's heart rate slowed, he pressed his own thigh back into Alice's.

Sam nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. "Okay. Sorry." He glanced at Dean, "Feel better, man," Sam told him as he started to turn and walk away, only to turn back, "Oh, and just for the record, Stacy is _so_ not my girlfriend." With another smile for Dean's sister and a nod, he walked back over to the table he’d been at before, grabbing his books in one hand as Mike looked up at him expectantly, wanting all the insider info. Sam only grinned and shook his head before turning and walking out the door, leaving Stacy sitting there to pout.

"He's crushing on you. You need to nip this in the bud," Rosalie told Dean, without opening her mouth. All of them could hear the whispers from the other students, and Ros wasn't the only one making that speculation. 

A muscle throbbed in Dean's jaw. He pulled his hostile gaze away from Stacy. "He's a teenager. He's crushing over a lot of people."

"That's the read you get from him?" Alice raised a perfect brow.

"I don't get any read from him, dammit."

"Then use your eyes and other senses. I'm getting food." Alice gracefully stood and had Jasper following close behind her toward the lunch lines.

"I should have gone hunting with Emmett," Dean grumbled, though he had fed. He was only hungry for one person right now... one stubborn, unafraid, puzzling as hell, tall boy with lips he knew would be as soft as petals, and blood so sweet...

Dean shot up, and headed for the line. He needed to distract himself before this obsession got out of hand.

* * *

Classes were over. Dean walked out of the school building and saw Sam standing around talking to some kids but definitely looking around. Having a feeling that what Sam was looking for was him, he made a bee line for his car and was inside, throwing it in reverse, before Sam even had the opportunity to take a step toward him. His tires squealed as he peeled out of the lot like he was being pursued by the devil himself.

Sam stutter-stepped toward Dean, his steps faltering as he watched Dean peel out of the lot. "Dammit all," he muttered under his breath.

Looking toward the school's front doors as he heard Stacy's annoying voice, and yes, it had grown to be rather annoying lately to him. Sam figured it was as good a place as any to start. Jaw tight, he jogged toward Stacy, Mike and Tom.

Stopping next to them, he smiled, only to have Stacy's eyes roam over him, something he tried to ignore. "Hey, I got a question. Any of you know where the Cullens live?" Sam asked, looking from one to the other. Mike opened his mouth, only to close it again and look at Stacy who glared at Sam. Tom remained silent, face expressionless. 

"Sam Winchester! You are _not_ going out there! It's bad enough you walk around all day like Dean Cullen's smitten little love puppy, but those people are just plain weird!" Stacy snapped at him. 

Sam glared at her, "I don't remember asking you for permission and at least _they_ don't annoy the shit out of a person who obviously doesn't want anything to do with them!" 

Stacy kicked Sam in the shin, and stormed off, leaving Sam to grip at his wounded leg, glaring after her. "Ow! Fuck! Bitch!" he grumbled. 

Mike chased after Stacy, leaving only Tom standing there with Sam. 

"Yeah, I know where they live, man. And frankly, I hate Stacy's guts and I agree with you. She's as annoying as a migraine, but Mike worships her, so." Tom shrugged and nodded toward the parking lot, "Come on, I'll give you directions." 

Standing beside the Impala with Tom, Sam looked down at the paper. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate it." 

Tom frowned slightly as he looked at Sam, "Yeah, well, just don't go winding up on the six o'clock news, huh?" 

Sam grinned at him, nodding. "I'll be fine. The Cullen's are good people." Sam told him, before tugging open the Impala's door and sliding behind the wheel.

Tom watched Sam start the car and pull out of the lot. "Yeah.. so why does everyone on the Res hate them?" Tom muttered under his breath, before turning to walk back toward his own car.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam pulled up to the extremely modern, very expensive looking large home up in the even more wooded areas right outside down, mostly hidden from view until you were right in front of it.   
Parking the Impala, Sam turned off the car and slid from behind the wheel. Looking at the house, Sam had to wonder if Tom had been correct with his directions. This was definitely not the kind of place he and his father had ever found vampires in before. He wasn't sure what he’d been expecting. A barn. A Cave. An old, rotted house maybe... but not this.

Walking up to the door, Sam took a deep nervous breath before pressing the doorbell.   
"Please be the right place," he muttered softly to himself.

 

Esme Cullen opened the door. Of course she and the others had heard the car long before it could be seen from the house, but in the interests of appearing semi-normal she'd waited for the bell. "Yes?" Giving a warm smile to the boy who'd made her son _feel_ , she added, "what can I do for you?" 

 

Sam shifted his weight nervously, smiling wide, dimples showing before he licked his lips, "I, uh, was, um, hoping to see Dean. Is he... here?" Sam asked her, glancing past the petite blonde to look inside.

"You must be Samuel. No, he's not here but I expect he will be shortly. Would you like to come in? Alice is here and Jasper..." 

Sam smiled again, his eyes dropping shyly, before looking back up at her. _Alice? Please let it be the brunette. Not the blonde, not the blonde._

"Just left," Alice said, coming to the door. "Hi Sam. Come on in." She wondered whether he noticed Esme sniffing his scent. He did smell very good, but unlike Dean, Edward and Emmett, neither of them had ever been faced with having to resist someone whose blood was literally addictive to them. 

Seeing who Alice was, Sam visibly relaxed. He hadn't learned the names of all of Dean's brothers and sisters yet. He smiled at Alice, glancing at the other woman... he knew her to be a vampire as well, she had the same pale skin as Dean and his siblings, it only made sense. 

Stepping inside, Sam's hunter eyes took in his surroundings, before he looked back at Alice again. "You," he glanced again at the other woman, "you have a very nice home here, ma'am." _Manners, boy!_ his father's voice rang in his head, but somehow he was sure his Dad hadn't meant he needed to be polite to a nest of vampires. "Dean feeling better?" 

Alice shrugged her slender shoulders. "We'll find out when he gets back." Taking Sam’s hand, she pulled him into the entertainment room and had him sit on the plush white sofa. 

Esme hovered in the doorway. "Can I get you some... water?" Her eyes briefly met Alice's. 

Sam looked over at the other woman, licked his lips nervously, before looking back at Alice. "Water?" he asked her softly, wanting to know if she was going to have any first.

Esme ran her hand through her long blond hair. "I'd offer you something else but I haven't been grocery shopping and..." she shrugged. 

Sam tried to hide the smile that wanted to come to his lips as a vision of vampires shopping at the local grocery popped into his head. He looked back at the other woman and shook his head, smiling. "It's alright. You don't need to go to any trouble for me. I understand. I'm fine, thank you." 

Feeling like he was stressing them out, Sam leaned over and spoke in Alice’s ear, whispering, "I _know._ It’s okay, Alice." Slowly, he pulled back, slightly slanted hazel eyes intently searching her face and waiting for her reaction.

"You know?!" Both women said the words at the same time, and saw confirmation in his eyes. 

Alice concentrated and saw no negative ramifications in the future from his knowledge, and nodded at her mom. She knew Esme would want to immediately call Carlisle to give him the news and get his advice. Once she left, Alice turned back to Sam. "If you really know, this is... its brave of you. You must really want to get that project done," she teased, though her own eyes held a knowing look in their depths. 

Sam smiled shyly, looking down at the floor, a small chuckle escaping him. "Yeah. The project," he muttered before looking back up at her, "What were we suppose to be working on again?" he joked, smiling wide before sobering and looking at her seriously. "I'm not all that brave, Alice. I just... I know you are good...um," he shrugged, "you won't hurt me. I believe that. I know that." He reached out, taking her hand in his, he brought it to his chest, laying it over his heart, his hand covering hers, holding it there. "In here," he told her, "Dean... he doesn't understand that."

Feeling the strong heart beat under her palm, Alice's eye went dark and she snatched her hand back. Taking a few breaths she answered tightly. "It's not that simple. We have to fight it every day. I'm fighting it right now." Moving away, she gave him a half smile. "You wear danger around you like a cloak." 

Sam huffed and shook his head, "You have _no_ idea." he muttered before licking his lips, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... to make you uncomfortable," he told her softly, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what I was thinking, really. That I'd come here and profess to Dean that I know he’s a vampire. That I don't care. That I would never tell anyone," he pulled to his feet, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. "Maybe I should go," he suggested softly, head bowed.

"It's too late." Her eyes met Sam's. "He's here."

Sam lifted his head, eyes meeting Alice's before searching his surroundings, waiting for Dean to step into the room from somewhere. _He's here? Shit._ Looking back at Alice, Sam shook his head and turned, walking back the way he had come. "He hasn't seen me yet, he doesn't know. Just, tell him... hell, don't tell him anything."

"Too hard to lie to him. Don't... don't make any sudden moves," she warned, disappearing up the stairs just as Dean walked in.

His gaze was cool and unfriendly as he stared Sam down from just outside the entertainment room, arms crossed over his chest, and his demeanor definitely hostile. "I thought you had a brain in your head."

Sam looked at Dean, licked his lips, eyes fixed on Dean's face. "A brain..." Sam frowned, "What's that suppose to mean? You came to see me!" Sam shrugged, "What's the difference?"

"Don't play cute. You know the difference. Say it," he snarled, eyes darkening.

Sam smirked at him, crossing his own arms over his chest, "What do you want me to say, Dean? That I came over to see you? Or maybe that I came over to see the supernatural _whatever_ that I go to school with? Oh, I know, how about that I came over to see the _VAMPIRE_ that I can't fucking get out of my head? That better!?" Sam asked him, voice rising with each phrase until he was yelling at him.

Just like that, Dean was in Sam's face, grabbing a handful of his shirt. "You have a death wish I don't know about?" He took a few breaths, trying... trying like hell to keep a hold of his temper, trying to fight the voice in his head that said might as well take him now... do it... get it over with, because it was destiny... fate... his blood... his body... take what he needed and then get over it. "Shut up a moment."

Sam hadn't said a word, but Dean saw his mouth move and needed time... time to get a hold of himself. He stood there, like a movie on pause, neither of them moving, eyes still locked. He licked his lips. "You're telling me you walked, knowingly, into a household of vampires. You think that's the same as me walking into your house. HOW is that the same." He just barely managed to stop himself from shaking Sam by his shirt.

Sam's eyes searched Dean's face. _Yeah, I fucking walked into a household of vampires. Not the first time, either, though they weren't like you and we called it a nest._ Sam clenched his teeth, glaring at Dean. "Because I still know you won't hurt me. That's how."

"You don't know shit," he shouted. Pushing him lightly, Dean moved away. "You don't know _anything_ or you'd be running out that door so fucking fast... you should be running. What are you waiting for?" 

Sam had staggered back when Dean pushed him and now stood glaring at him as he ranted. He slowly shook his head. "I'm not going to run, Dean. I'm not afraid of you," he told him softly. "Maybe that's a foreign concept to you, but you're just gonna have to get used to the fact that, Sam Winchester, isn't afraid of the big bad vampire boy."

"Then Sam Winchester is a fucking idiot who wants to be dinner," Dean ground out, frustrated that he couldn't get through to him. "You do have a death wish, don't you?" Maybe that was it... maybe this was a suicide or some crazy challenge or... dammit this would be so much easier if he could just read him! 

Sam narrowed his eyes. "No, Dean. No death wish. I have ways to protect myself," Sam smirked slightly, tilting his head, "I'm not stupid or naive. I know what you are and what you can do. I also know how to kill a vampire and how to become one." He straightened his head and quirked a brow, "Any other questions?"

"You watch a movie or two, and you think you're an expert." Dean forgot about all his other needs as fury filled his eyes at the thought of the risks that someone like Sam, someone who thought they knew it all, would take. "You know nothing. You don't know how to kill a vampire. You CAN'T kill a vampire. Crosses, garlic, fire, beheading, staking... it's all bullshit and adds up to twenty ways of killing yourself. Leave now." Very softly, very gently, he added, "please."

Sam took a deep breath, after letting Dean have his say, his say of bullshit, he tilted his head, glancing toward the door before looking back at Dean and speaking softly, "No, beheadings, huh?" Sam asked him, chuckling softly, "Well, I got a machete that says you're a goddamn liar."

"You're unarmed." There wasn't any place Sam could hide a machete, or anything else. Or maybe he thought something as silly as gun or a knife would protect him. Dean started to pat him down, snapping, "don't move," as his hands moved over Sam's chest and back, then down and up both legs. That was a mistake, because in his mind’s eye, he got a flash of Sam mostly naked in his bed and making those deliciously anguished sounds.

Pulling back suddenly, Dean met Sam's gaze in triumph, having proven his point. 

Sam shook his head, "You don't get it do you?" Sam asked him softly. "I would never bring anything into your home. I would never harm you or your family," he huffed and turned, heading for the door, "You know, I was right. Like I told Alice, you don't understand and I shouldn't have come here." Stopping at the door, Sam looked back the way he had come. "And not for the reasons you think, Dean. Not because it's dangerous, or because I'm afraid. But because you just don't want to see anything, don't want to see what's right in front of your face," he muttered, knowing Dean could hear him anyway.

"Tomorrow." When Sam turned back, Dean continued. "Pay attention to your biology teacher."

Walking past Sam, he went to the front door and held it open. He wasn't answering either Alice or Esme’s mental thoughts, wasn't listening to them trying to coach him. They needed to mind their own fucking business in this. They knew he was right, that Sam's chances of surviving them was almost nil.

Sam huffed and shook his head as he walked out the door and to his car. He didn't look back, didn't feel he needed to. He was sure he wouldn't find Dean there anyway. He pulled out of the driveway and onto the road leading away from the Cullen home, still muttering under his breath angrily. Well, that certainly hadn't gone the way he had planned. 

*** 

[Next day]  
Clicking the button of the remote, Mr. Anderson flipped through the slides, showing the biology class pictures of brilliantly colored frogs, snakes, fish and birds. “There are hundreds of species of venomous creatures that come in a large array of beautiful colors. Many of them are deadly. 

There are two theories about this phenomenon. Under the first theory, this is ‘warning coloration’... these creatures stand out so brilliantly against their backgrounds that they are practically advertising their presence. What does this say to other creatures? That they’re not afraid... that they have something to back it up with like big teeth, or poison, or bad stench. Under the second theory, their coloring is a lure. Look at me, I’m so pretty...” 

There was laughter from the class as their decidedly unpretty teacher claimed otherwise. 

“... my colors are interesting and bold, my scent is irresistible... then bam, I hit you with my venom and you’re dead.” 

He hit the lights. “That’s all for now, see you all tomorrow.”

****

Entering third period English, Sam's eyes fell on Dean, who was already seated in his chair looking up at him smugly. "Oh yeah, real funny. You're a riot," Sam whispered, as he sat down and glanced over at Dean. 

Sam shook his head and licked his lips, "Let me tell you a story about a guy I knew." He leaned over so he wouldn't be heard by anyone else. "His wife died. Young. They were," Sam shrugged, "in love. Well, this guy," he looked at Dean hard, his eyes meeting and holding Dean's as he threw his words back at him, "Saw a movie or two and thought he knew things, so he brought his wife back from the dead. Wanting to be with her, no matter how dangerous it was, because he knew she would never hurt him." Sam said, making it a point to leave out the fact that he and his father had hunted her down due to the fact that although she had never hurt Greg, her husband, she had feasted on innocent victims and it was their job to send her back to the dead. He and his dad had killed her...again. Salted and burned her remains. Yeah, Sam made sure to leave all that out. 

He licked his lips, "So, you see... not everything that should be deadly has to be. Sometimes... we just know when they won't hurt us." Sam told him, before pulling back and straightening in his chair.

Dean's gaze narrowed. Sam still didn't get it... the magnitude of the danger he was placing himself in. This time it was Dean who leaned closer. "So you gonna put it on the internet? Whatever that guy did to bring his wife back? Because it worked once, for one person, you're so sure it would work for everyone else?" He didn't need an answer, he knew Sam would never do that. "Would you cut yourself up and swim through a tank of great whites on faith? No?" His fingers curled around the edge of his desk. "It's what you did yesterday. And surviving one swim... doesn't give you a clue as to what could happen the next time." The way he said it, it was clear he meant there wouldn't be a next time.

Sam huffed and shook his head, "You have no idea who you're talking to. I'm not afraid of you, Dean. Get over it," Sam told him just as Mrs. Appleby called Sam up to her desk. 

Sliding out of his chair, Sam leaned over Dean's desk, "And I know how to and could handle every one of you if I had to," he added, before grinning at him, dimples showing as he straightened and turned walking up to the teachers desk.

Covering his face with his hands, Dean prayed for patience. Sam _really_ believed what he said... that he could handle a vampire. He had to admit the guy had figured it out real fast, but if you believed in things like vamps and werewolves, then it wasn't too great a leap to peg the Cullens. When Sam came back and took his seat, Dean muttered under his breath, "you're gonna be the death of you."

Sam chuckled softly, nodding. "Been told that before too." Sam bent over to search through his backpack.

"Now I'm not original. Great." Opening his book, Dean proceeded to ignore Sam. It was clear talking wasn't getting through to him and right now Dean had no clue what else he could try. He just had to get through this project and keep his distance. If he could. 

Sam kept his attention on his class work and mostly off Dean, though he did cast glances his way every so often when he paused in his writing. 

Mike, walking past, paused by Sam's desk, dropping a folded piece of paper in the center, causing Sam to look up at him as he reached for the paper. "What's this?" 

Mike glanced at Dean, then looked back at Sam grinning, "Directions." 

Sam quirked a brow at him, "To?" 

"La Push. We're gonna catch a wave, dude!" Mike told him, waggling his eyebrows. 

Sam chuckled and shook his head, holding the paper up toward Mike, "I don't think -" 

Mike cut him off, "You gotta go, man!" he glanced over his shoulder at Stacy then looked back at Sam, "I got Stacy to go cause I told her you were gonna go." 

"Mike," Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. 

"I'm gonna ask her to Homecoming while we're there. It's cool, man. I'll keep her away from you." Mike told him, then glanced at Dean again, before grinning at Sam, "Besides, if your boyfriend comes with you, she's not gonna go anywhere near you for sure," Mike said, before wondering off again. 

Sam sighed, before tossing the folded paper into his backpack, shaking his head. _Dammit_

He looked over at Dean, "You wouldn't want to help a guy out and save him from the girl with eight hands, would ya?"

"Way I hear it, you don't need saving. From her." He didn't look over at Sam. He was still processing the boyfriend comment. He hadn't sensed sarcasm but then why would Mike think Sam... Turning his head, he looked at Mike, searching his mind... finding nothing helpful. Then Stacy's... nothing... nothing other than Sam and Stacy had kissed. It was going to drive him crazy. It _was_ driving him godamned crazy. 

Sam frowned at Dean, "What the hell..." he glanced over at Mrs. Appleby knowing he had been too loud. Lowering his voice, Sam started again, "What the hell have you 'heard'? Nothing happened. She likes me. Not my friggin fault. Not like I've encouraged it!" Sam huffed and shook his head looking back at his work. "Even for a... " he looked up, over at Dean, licked his lips, "Even for a _Cullen_ , you're an asshole."

"Been told that before." Throwing Sam's words back at him, Dean scribbled in his notebook. A few minutes later, he muttered, "incoming, three o'clock." Why the hell should it bother him that Stacy was coming at Sam, again? He started to mentally count.

"... its going to be so much fun, you're going to love La Push," Stacy kept going as she came up to Sam and put her hand on his shoulder. "I didn't know you surf, but I'm sure you look real cute in a wetsuit." 

Her gaze slid to Dean, who didn't look at her but felt her glance, as well as a strong dislike for her surfacing in reaction. 

Feeling the teacher's eyes on her, Stacy dropped the pamphlet she was passing out onto Sam's table. "We'll talk at lunch."

The pamphlet she tossed at Dean's desk slid off it, but he caught it mid-air without hardly looking. 

Sam watched Stacy walk off. "Damn it all. I am so gonna kill Mike!" Sam glanced at Dean, "I'd show up naked just to shock her into silence if I didn't think she'd just tackle me!" he shook his head, "Son of a-" Sam's fist slammed down on the top of his desk before he raised it, running his hand through his hair. Sam tilted his head back, closing his eyes as he counted to ten.

"You don't like her?" Surprise crept into Dean's voice as he looked at Sam. Yeah, he wasn't doing so well on the 'acting disinterested' front.

Sam turned his head toward Dean, eyes still closed. One eye popped open as he looked at Dean. "Am I that obvious?" Sam huffed as he pulled his head up, opening his eyes. He looked over at Dean, "Hell no, I don't like her. I told you that yesterday. Or were you too busy glaring at me to hear!?"

Dean shrugged, but didn't let it go. "It's a little hard to believe that you go around kissing people you don't like, and letting them rub your back." No, he never missed a thing, not when it came to Sam it seemed. "I'm afraid to ask what you do with someone you hate."

Sam glared at him. "She kissed ME!" he told Dean through clenched teeth, "And she was..." he waved a hand, "I dunno why the hell she was rubbing my back, I sure didn't tell her to! I was trying to get some sleep for once without dreams about--" Sam stopped, clamped his mouth closed and looked away. 

After a minute he turned back toward Dean, frowning hard, "Why the hell do you care anyway? I thought you just wanted to eat me!" Sam huffed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, no longer looking at Dean, but staring off angrily at not much of anything.

"Dreams?" That one word caught his attention like nothing else could. He searched Sam's profile and when he didn't clarify, probed. "Dreams about what?" Dammit, why had he chosen this moment to clam up. "Sam? About what? Her?" 

 

Sam's face slowly crumbled into a look of utter and complete disgust before he turned his head to look at Dean, "Thank you," Sam nodded, "Thank you for that awkward moment of actually tasting throw up in my mouth. Really. What a pal!" Sam rolled his eyes and looked away once more, shuddering exaggeratedly as he made a face again. "Nothin' like ruining sex for me for the rest of my life." he muttered softly under his breath, slouching down in his seat as he glanced at the clock. God... was it time to go, yet!?

"You're not gonna tell me." He wasn't used to feelings of frustration, but they seemed to come with the territory when he was around Sam Winchester. Now he'd have to listen to the thoughts of all his friends and hope he said something to one of them. Another question struck him and erupted from his mouth before he had a chance to rethink it. "Are you gay?"

The bell rang, but he didn't move, waiting on Sam's answer.

Sam slowly turned in his chair to face Dean before leaning toward him, leaning very close, his lips near Dean's ear, voice soft. "And if I was? Would it really matter to you? Would you care?" Sam asked him, before pulling back and grabbing up his backpack. He slid from his seat then and walked out the door.

Dean gave an audible groan. He didn't give a crap about the looks he was getting, but he cared that he hadn't been able to get one straight answer out of Sam. What the hell was the matter with him? Did he care? Only in the academic sense... as in he was curious.

Yeah right. That's why he had no clue what fourth period had been about. That's why his mind was replaying every interaction he'd seen between Sam and females and males, trying to figure him out. Nothing. He came up with a big fat nothing. Not that he was blind to what Alice and practically the school had been whispering about, but that was different. That was probably just vampire allure... a lot of people were drawn in, wanted to be your best friend, or 'in the know'... which was probably where Sam, who thought he knew stuff about vampires, was coming from.

*

Dean stood in line, choosing food he wouldn't eat and dropping it onto his tray. He knew the exact moment Sam walked into the cafeteria. He was like a breath of fresh air, so sweet, with some underlying spiciness to him. It made his teeth ache so good. 

Sam walked into the cafeteria and looked over toward the table he always sat at. The one with Tom and Mike... and _her_ , only to find that the only empty seat was right next to her. Shit! 

Sam stopped in his tracks and looked around the room, trying to find a way out of his mess for himself. He looked over at the Cullen's table... and then he did the unthinkable. Walking over to his table, he grabbed the unoccupied chair and walked away with it, ignoring Stacy as she called out to him, asking him where he was going. He reachedthe Cullen table and sat the chair down, then himself in it. Leaning his arms on the table, he smiled at Alice. "Hi."

She looked amused, the way her lips quirked when she answered him, but the others at the table were looking coolly at him. "You're not afraid of drama, I'll give you that," she said.

Sam shook his head, smiling. "Naw, I'm not. Not afraid of much of anything that I know of actually...clowns, but that's about it," he told her with a grin and a wink.

"Just like the crocodile hunter, and oops... look what happened to him," Dean said arriving silently. He appeared sure and steady now, but for someone who was _never_ clumsy, there was a moment when he'd almost lost his tray when he saw where Sam was headed. "You're parked in the wrong place. Again."

Looking up, Sam sighed and turned back to Alice, "He always this uptight or is this new, just for me?" Sam asked her before looking back up at Dean again. "Yeah, well, like that parking space, I didn't see your name here, and I'm talking with your sister," Sam told him, before looking back at Alice, "Now, where were we? Oh right, clowns. Yeah," Sam shuddered, "freaky things. Hate them." 

Dean set his tray down and lowed himself into a chair. His gaze went to Rosalie who was voicing her complaints to him in silence. He gave her a nod, and a shrug, looking pointedly at Alice.

"I never thought of them as scary. Or anything else," Alice admitted. "That's why I have trouble picking out Halloween costumes." 

Sam frowned, shook his head. "I'm not real big on Halloween." Knowing about all the things that went bump in the night made him not want to celebrate a holiday that seemed to welcome that stuff. 

"So, what is it that you do for fun, Alice Cullen?" he asked her, casting Dean sidelong glances, but otherwise seeming to ignore him completely.

Jasper's eyes swung toward Sam. He started to get up...

"Jasper," Dean shook his head 'no.'

Putting his hand on Alice's, Jasper sat back down but gave Sam a warning look.

Dean was tense, ready for anything. So were Emmett and Rosalie. Of all of them, Jasper was the newest to this way of life and had the least control. 

"Reading, and writing mostly," Alice threaded her fingers through Jaspers in reassurance. "And yours?"

"Thrillseeking," Dean answered for him, pushing his food around his plate.

Sam didn't miss the look that Jasper shot him, but he refused to be bullied by these people. He was doing nothing wrong, just talking to Alice, the only one of the lot of them that seemed nice enough to talk to most of the time. That thought earned Dean a glance, before he looked back at Alice. 

Sam nodded to her answer, then frowned and rolled his eyes at Dean's muttered remark. "Mine?" Maybe he ought to go with thrill seeking. "Reading. I enjoy that a lot. Um," Sam shrugged, "We, my Dad and I, move around so much I don't really have a lot of time for fun other than fun you can make yourself. Reading, writing, " Sam glanced at Dean, "dreaming..." he looked back at Alice as he licked his lips. "My Dad and I do a lot of hunting." 

What the hell... _dreaming_. Dean dropped his fork and tried to pretend he wasn't listening, but the instant he heard _hunter_ , he knew the problem. Sam thought knowing how to shoot a gun could protect him. 

"So do we," Emmett offered, before his mate kicked his shin under the table. 

Sam looked from Alice to Emmett and smiled slightly. "Yeah, but I have a feeling it's for totally different prey." He looked down for a sec, then back at Alice. "A bunch of us are going to La Push, and as I understand it, I have to go too." Sam glanced at the others before looking back at Alice, "Why don't you and your brothers and sister join us? Could be fun," Sam shrugged, before turning to look at Dean's tray and sighing. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to play with your food," he asked him, snatching a carrot stick up and taking a bite.

Rosalie got up first. "He's trouble, Dean." That was all she said before she walked away with her tray. Emmett followed her and Jasper got up, touching Alice's shoulder.

"Thanks for the invitation. As I understand it, my brothers and sister don't want to go anywhere with you," she answered. Though her words were harsh, her tone was gentle as she told him the truth and got up. "See you later Sam."

Sam watched her walk away, his mouth hanging open slightly at her words. What the hell had he done now? He was just trying to be nice. Be friendly. Fuck. Sam scrubbed his face with his hands. Whatever. Sure, Alice was nice about it, but what she said left little to the imagination as to what Dean's family thought about him. Great.

They were left alone at the table, Dean glaring at Sam, and Sam seeming not to notice. "What are you playing at? What do you want," he asked eventually.

Sam looked over at Dean, "Huh? What do you mean, what do I want? Do I have to _want_ something?"

"Stop playing dumb." Dean gritted his teeth. "Do you see any other humans at this table? Do you see anyone else talking to us? Joining us? Do you have any idea what your friends are thinking right now?" His hand closed around a bottle of water. "They're smart enough to know what your bio teacher said is true. Stop putting yourself in danger." Then softly, almost imperceptibly, he added, "stop putting us in danger."

Sam frowned at Dean. "People are ignorant and judgmental. Most see black and white. I know there are shades of grey. As for what they're thinking, I couldn't give a rat’s ass," he shrugged, "probably nothing worse than when I told them that I don't let a person's sex tell me who I am going to love. And that bio teacher hasn't got a fucking clue compared to me when it comes to _this_ ," Sam told him through gritted teeth, before pulling up from his chair, "so climb off your goddamn high horse, Dean Cullen. You wanna know how I know all about you and what you are? Go ask about John Winchester and then, THEN get back to me!" Sam spat before turning and walking out of the cafeteria.

He would have followed him out and made him see sense, except a warning bell sounded in his mind. Twilight, when he was at his calmest, that would be better. Right now, he felt like Sam Winchester had put him through an all day long godamned roller coaster ride and he didn't know whether he had it in him to keep it together. 

_John Winchester._ Dean put a call in to Carlisle. By sixth period, he'd have everything there was to know about this John Winchester, everything.

* * *

The Cullens congregated near Alice's car for a few minutes, but dissipated the instant they saw Sam come out of the building and head their way. 

"I'm fine," Dean answered Rosalie's unspoken question and waved her off. Not wanting to encourage Sam in the least, he headed to his own car and took the keys out.

Sam saw Dean head for the car and swore under his breath. He knew Dean had seen him walking over. "Hey, Cullen!" Sam called out to him. "Hold on a second!" He jogged over and leaned back against Dean’s car, "Well? Are you coming over or am I?"

Dean's blood shot straight to his temples. He gripped the key and flicked his gaze over to Sam. "My place is off limits, get that through your head. Besides, you have a date at the beach," he practically sneered as he opened his door. "Mind getting off the car? I just had it detailed." 

Sam pulled away from Dean's car, but stood looking at him, watching him. "I wasn't going to go if you wanted to work on the project," Sam told him softly. He glanced away, looked back, and sighed. "Whatever, man. Whatever." Muttering, he turned and started to walk off toward his car. Fuck it, he was done. Maybe he was being like Stacy. If Dean wanted him around he'd show it, right? Yeah, he needed to just get a fuckin' hobby, something to get his mind off Dean Cullen.

"Wait."

Sam stopped walking with a sigh, head tilting back as he waited, but he didn't turn around.

"I know who you are. I know who your father is. I know he's your hero and you probably think there isn't a thing that's walked this earth that he can't kill, but I'm telling you Sam... he's never met one of us, or there is no way he'd be alive." It was just a matter of fact, and that was how Dean tried to tell it, but he needed Sam to understand.

Sam turned around slowly and walked back to Dean, raised an eyebrow. "Never met a vampire?" Sam chuckled, shook his head, "I helped him kill a nest two months before I got here, Dean, so sorry, you're wrong."

Dean shook his head, his eyes now inky black. "No one. Nothing walks away from a fight with one of us. Nothing, you got that?" There was one exception, but it took a whole pack of werewolves to do the job. "What you've met are knock-offs, not the real thing. You don't know crap about us, and there's a reason for it."

Sam shook his head, "Funny. You look like any other vampire I've ever seen, and you're even an ass like most of them, cept there was this one girl," Sam shrugged, "She was nice. I let her live." Sam's eyes narrowed, "I could take you on."

"Is that what you were doing at my place? Getting the lay of the land so you could... kill our _nest_? Trying to follow in your father's footsteps?" He had to ask. 

A muscle twitched in Sam's jaw as he glared at Dean. "No. That was NOT what I was doing there. I went there to see YOU. I told you I would never hurt you or your family. And believe me, if I wanted to, I wouldn't need to get a 'lay of the land', my father has taught me better than that," he said through gritted teeth.

"Meet me at six thirty. Bring your machete, your guns, your rifles, bring a godamned bomb if you know how to make one. I'll be in the clearing behind in the forest, right behind the school baseball diamond." He opened his door, and turned again to look at Sam. "I show you that you're wrong, and you stop this... this suicidal behavior." It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

Sam watched him get into his car, teeth clenched, one leg shaking as he held in nervous energy, the same energy that hit him before a hunt. "I won't hurt you, Dean," Sam told him softly, eyes narrowed. Sure, he'd show up, but he wasn't going to fight him. If Dean wanted to be an ass and rip his throat open, then more power to him. He'd already told Dean he'd never hurt him or his family and he meant it.

A vampire willingly going up against a hunter was not only suicide, it was just damn stupid.

"Bring your damned weapons, or don't show up," Dean snapped after rolling his windows down. He didn't wait for an answer, instead, throwing his car into reverse, and getting the hell out of the lot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)
> 
> Art by Shazamy

Twilight brought some peace to Dean, though he knew that when faced with Sam, it could all dissipate in a second. He'd parked his car in an obvious place, using it as a marker for Sam to see where he should walk into the forest. A part of him worried Sam wouldn't come. Another part of him was irritated that he'd dare put his life into danger like this, meeting a vampire in a lonely place. 

Sam pulled the Impala up next to Dean's car and parked. He opened the driver side door without shutting the car off, Metallica's 'Enter Sandman' blaring from the speakers, Sam walked back to the trunk and popped it open. Reaching in, he grabbed his brown jacket slipping it on, and then reached for one of the large hunting knives, sheathing it on his hip. He pulled the machete out next, then grabbed the sawed off shotgun and his pistol, tucking it in the back waistband of his jeans. After loading the shotgun, Sam closed the trunk and picked up the machete. Walking back to the driver side door, he leaned in, turning off the car and blanketing the area in silence. Knocking the car door closed with his hip, Sam headed into the woods.

Dean pushed away from the tree he'd been leaning against and walked toward Sam. "You came. Like I said, _death wish_."

Sam cocked a brow, "Right back at ya." 

Stopping a few feet in front of Sam, Dean looked him up and down. "That's it? That's your arsenal, son of John Winchester?" 

Sam smiled, "It's all I need. You _are_ only a vampire, right? Cause if you're something else too, I might need to go back to the car, get other stuff..." he answered, pointing the shotgun he held in one hand in the direction of the car.

Suddenly, Dean's eyes went gold with amusement. He knew this was serious, it really should be... yeah... he wasn't gonna smile, not even when Sam's own smile was so damned infectious. "You ever felt a vampire?" Okay, so he was smirking. It wasn't a smile though. 

Sam's teasing smile fell as he looked at Dean, licked his lips nervously. "Have I ever what?" He did _not_ just ask him if he had ever... surely he didn't mean where Sam's perverted mind suddenly dipped, with visions of his dream floating before his eyes.

"Felt. A. Vampire," Dean spoke slowly, as if to a child, struggling to hide his amusement. 

Sam frowned at him, "I. Heard. You." Sam said the words slowly back to him, only slightly louder. He shook his head, "...but really, saying the same thing, only slower, is not going to explain to me what you mean by that." He quirked a brow, "Of course, I've felt a vampire, you gotta touch 'em when your wrestling them down to the floor so your Dad can hack their heads off, so yeah, I guess so." _And if your mind is going somewhere else with this, then yeah, I've done that too... felt_ _**you**_. _In a dream, but still..._

"C'mere." Looking down, Dean pulled his tee shirt up. Ordinarily, he wore a light pullover to fit in, but it wasn't necessary to pretend right now. "Don't worry, I won't bite." 

Sam looked from Dean's exposed skin to his face. "I wasn't afraid that you would." Slowly, Sam took a step forward, then another, and another until he stood directly before Dean. Sam looked up, hazel eyes locking on green/gold as he licked his lips. "Okay, now what?" He asked, his voice slightly husky.

"Touch me. _Slowly_." Reaching out, he waited until Sam rearranged his weapons, then took his hand and placed Sam's warm palm on his cool stomach, slowly pushing it up his chest. Heat spread from Sam's palm, sending flames licking up and down Dean’s sensitive skin. He carefully leaned away, holding his breath so he wouldn't breath in any more temptation.

Sam's eyes were wide as he watched his hand move up Dean's abs, his chest, felt his cold firm smooth skin. Taking in a shuddering breath, Sam exhaled slowly. Well, this was a new distraction technique, he wasn't so sure how it would work between most hunters and vampires, but it was sure working on him. 

Sam licked his lips slowly, before looking up at Dean's face. "I - I've never done this before, no, he stammered, shaking his head.

"All those vampires you touched, I don't feel different to you?" Gripping Sam's wrist, but not too hard, he pulled it away and let his shirt drop. "When you wrestled them to the ground, is that how they felt?" 

Sam shook his head, "No. They were...different, but..." Sam sighed, looking away. Looking back at Dean he nodded, "Okay, so you're different. Fine. Death is still death. You kill one like you kill another. Chop off the head. Maybe salt and burn the remains if you want to be extra cautious, but still," he shrugged. 

Suddenly, Sam tossed his weapons to the ground. "Look, it's not like I want to fight you or hurt you or your family anyway. You have nothing to worry about from me. And believe me, I DO NOT plan on telling my Dad about the vampires I met in Forks."

"You think I'm afraid of you? Of your dad? I'm trying to show you that you need to be afraid." Dean gave a frustrated grown. "Pick up that machete. Do it." When Sam picked it up again, Dean put his arm out. "You think you can chop off my head with that... just you? Cut my arm. TRY." 

Sam grit his teeth, looking from Dean's face to his arm and back. "I really," Sam shook his head. He so didn't want to do this. With a sigh, Sam nodded, steeled his expression and dragged the blade across Dean's arm. "Okay, there. Ya happy?" Sam asked him looking into his face, not paying attention to his arm.

"Yeah, I'm ecstatic. If this is how you kill a vampire, you're dead ten times over. Do it again, this time fucking cut me." He practically snarled, wondering why Sam trusted him so much. 

Sam narrowed his eyes at him before turning his gaze back to Dean's arm. Not even a scratch. Yeah, well, he hadn't really tried very hard either, not wanting to do it at all.

Grabbing Dean's arm, Sam looked up into Dean's face as the blade lowered to his skin. "Just remember, I didn't want to do this," he said as he pressed the knife down hard, gritting his teeth, then drew it downward toward Dean's wrist before releasing his arm. "You know, it's a hell of a lot easier to do this when you don't have the fucking hots for the vampire in question!" he spat out, before grabbing Dean's arm again and looking down, expecting to see a mess he would need to clean up until Dean healed.

Dean practically swallowed his tongue at that. It was like a totally lame delayed reaction, when he finally echoed Sam, "you have the hots for..." He gave a bark of laughter, "you're trying to distract me... not bad, but notice... no damage." He took the machete from Sam and started to easily fold the steel back and forth, like an accordion, until it was reduced to a small rectangle, and he dropped it to the ground. "I'll buy you a new one."

He stared at Sam, taking in his shocked expression, but his mind was still locked on what Sam had said. "Was it? A distraction?" 

Sam looked back up at Dean, shook his head. "No. It wasn't. A distraction usually doesn't involve investing yourself into it much," he shrugged, "I find those work the best. Like kissing the spirit while my Dad burned the remains." I wasn't into it, so, no investment of self. In what I just said, I invested a lot. Wasn't meaning to say that actually."

Dean accepted that and made a semi-admission. "I know what you mean. But _I'm_ not going to make the mistake of letting it slip out." Pausing only for a minute, he jutted his chin toward the rifle. "Now shoot me." 

Sam's eyes widened, "What!? No fucking way! Are you deaf!? I tell you I have the hots for you and you want me to shoot you with a sawed off shot gun!? Are you nuts!? Fuck me!" Sam started pacing as he ran a hand through his hair. He was insane. That was what was wrong with Dean Cullen. It wasn't that he was a jerk. Wasn't that he was an ass. Wasn't even that he was a vampire. It was that he was fucking fruit loops!

"No. Yes. No. And... I can't," he answered in seriatim, laughing out loud at Sam's reaction. "Alice is right, you've got a flair for drama. You were okay with cutting me to death but shooting is different?" In three strides, he was picking up the shotgun at Sam's feet. "Loaded? Don't freak out on me, now, all right? You're doing great."  
Sam glared at him. "Cutting you I can stitch. And I told you then, it was still hard to do. But, I sure as hell can't dig out a round of buck shot!"

Turning the gun on himself, though it was awkward because it was much longer than a pistol, Dean aimed it at his heart and pulled the trigger. His body barely moved under the force. He dropped the gun to the ground, put his hand over his heart and dropped wordlessly to the ground, next to it. 

Sam's eyes widened, "Fuck. no. no. no," he muttered softly hurrying to Dean's side and falling to his knees beside him. 

"Dean? Oh fuck! Why the hell...?" Sam nodded, "Cause I'm a Cullen" he muttered, making his voice high-pitched and whiney as his hands tugged up the front of Dean's shirt, running over unflawed skin as he checked for the wound. Sam frowned, Where...?,

Chuckling, Dean sat up. "That's right, cause I'm a Cullen, and you can't hurt me. Not with _anything_ you got." Seeing the look on Sam's chalk-white face, he launched into an apology. "Sorry, I really shouldn't have done that, scared you. But you did say you're a famous hunter and you've killed lots of vampires... sawed their heads clear off..." That had him laughing again. "No seriously... sorry."

Sam was glaring at him angrily, "No, I said my father was a famous hunter. I've just hunted with him and yeah, we have. Not your kind obviously, but still." He continued to glare at him as he thought about Dean's 'kind' of vampire, _Sure, you might be stronger, faster... but so are demons. There is always a way. Brawn doesn't always win._

"Not that I know what that has anything to do with you playing possum. I also told you I had feelings for you," Sam said tightly as he pulled to his feet and walked back over to the shotgun and picking it up, leaned it back on one shoulder. "Well, if you've had your fun. I think I can still make it to La Push before Mike and Tom leave."

"I was just joking. I hardly ever do that, but you make me feel..." Dean shrugged. "There was more to this demonstration, but you're right. You should go to your friends. It's better that way." He rested his head on top of his knees for a moment, then started to get up. 

"Superior." Sam said. "The word your looking for, that I make you feel. It's superior," he said, before turning around and walking back the way he had come. Sam paused for a moment, but didn't turn around, "And the dream I had was about you." 

"'Happy', was the word but thank you, 'superior' is true too ... and you dreamt about what!? Me." Dean felt like he'd been sucker punched. All of the strange new sensations that had washed over him as he watched Sam dream resurfaced. Holy hell... "Go," he agreed, "go, quick." 

Sam stopped walking with a sigh. "Or what? You'll show me how to dream correctly too?"

"No." Dean shook his head. "I'm having a _vampire moment_ , you wouldn't understand. Go, Sam. Be safe." Dry scrubbing his face, he added, "now that's a contradiction in terms." 

Sam turned around slowly, tilting his head to the side. "A vampire moment that I wouldn't understand... Oh, you mean cause I'm such a poor hunter, I get it." Sam nodded with a huff before narrowing his eyes at Dean. "You know, you really are a jerk. I dunno why I had a fucking sex dream about-..." Sam clamped his mouth shut, shook his head and turned back around. Nope, he'd already said too much, revealed too much of himself. He was not going to give anything else away.

Cautiously, Dean started to circle around, trying to get upwind of where Sam was so his scent wouldn't continue to draw him. "That's right. I'm a jerk, I'm an asshole... don't move Sam. He could see by the stubborn tilt of his jaw, Sam was going to do anything but listen. "I was there when you were dreaming. I had to leave, Goddamnit, because I was afraid I'd hurt you. It's the same now. Please don't move... please don't," he whispered in a soft, husky voice, still stepping away.

Sam turned around, eyes searching Dean out and finding him. "You were in my room? How did you get in there? You saw me dreaming? Then you saw..." Sam grit his teeth, "Son of a bitch! Fuck!" Sam nodded, eyes downcast. "Fine, you know what? I don't care. Whatever. Hope you enjoyed the damn show. Did you, Dean? Huh? Did you like watchin' little Sammy Winchester have a fucking wet dream about your ass!? Mother FUCK!"

Dean blanched. Now there was a joke in there somewhere, but he couldn't see it at the moment. He was so used to eavesdropping on people's thoughts that things like privacy didn't really concern him most of the time. But he'd upset Sam, embarrassed him, and for that he was sorry. "It's not like that." 

Or was it? Had he acted like a pervert? The name he called half the people whose thoughts he picked up on? "I just wanted to be near you for a while. I didn't know... I didn't know you were going to dream, or what you were dreaming about, only that you looked so damned sexy. I swear I didn't even know it was a sex dream, not until the end."

His eyes were inky black. He fought the darkness, the craving... he fought it yet stayed because he knew this was a pivotal moment and that he shouldn't fuck it up. "I apologize. I really am sorry." He caught hold of an overhead branch and gripped it tight, his fingernails permanently marking it.

Sam nodded, as he tossed down the shotgun, reached up and unsheathed the hunting knife and tossed it down, then reached behind him and pulled out his pistol, adding it to the pile, his eyes never leaving Dean. He bent then, pulling up his pant leg and pulled out a small pistol from a holster there, tossing it aside, then the opposite ankle he pulled that pant leg up and pulled out a small blade. Pulling back up to his full height, Sam shrugged off his jacket then pulled his tee up and over his head, spreading his arms wide, he started walking toward Dean.

Weapons were something else he hardly ever thought about, but when Sam started to peel them off his body, finding them under his clothes and tossing them in a pile, a wave of heat engulfed Dean. Oh come on... guns and knives weren't sexy. It had to just be _him_... And what the hell was he up to?

"You know, most people, when they want to be around someone, they do it during the day when the other person is awake." Sam shook his head, "Well, here I am. Be _near_ me. I'm unarmed, something I've only been two times in my life since the age of five. Right now and the day I went to your house. I trust you, you won't hurt me. So, you wanna be near me. Be near me," Sam told him, eyes narrowed. Slowly, he let his arms fall to his sides as he stopped walking, standing only a few steps away from Dean. "Well, mighty vampire? What's it gonna be?"

"Most people aren't monsters. They don't hear your blood rushing through your veins, they don't crave your blood, they don't fight all day long against needs that are always, ALWAYS just on the edge of overpowering them," Dean said through clenched teeth, taking a step back, afraid... so fucking afraid for Sam, so afraid he wasn't going to get him to see reality. "My family has given up human blood, that's true. The temptation is still there. And then you come along, and everything I fought for..." he shook his head. "Your scent... yours alone is like a drug to me. It's like putting fucking cocaine in front of a drug addict... Ninety percent of the time, you are THAT close to death when you're around me. I should leave, but I can't... because there are other feelings... I've never felt." He licked his suddenly dry lips. "I came to your room because I needed to be close, but also because exposure to you makes it easier on me the next day. Otherwise, it's like starting all over again... like the first day you sat next to me."

He swallowed. "You know what? This might be the second time ever you're without a weapon, but its also the first time I've fucking given a monologue. I can't explain it to you any clearer, I can't. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry you're angry, or embarrassed. That's... that's about it."

Sam was smirking as he reached up, leaning his wrists on the low hanging branch Dean had vacated when he had stepped back from him. He stood silently, listening. At the end, he gave a soft chuckle, looking down at the ground before he licked his lips and looked back up at Dean. "When was the last time you kissed a human?"

"The _first_ time was probably in your dream, unless everyone is running around dreaming about me." He felt Sam's gaze travel to his mouth, almost felt the heat in his eyes, the request. "I can't. Maybe some other time," Dean croaked. "Get dressed and in your car. I'll see you at school." 

Sam huffed softly as he pulled away from the tree branch, "Must not have been _that_ sexy then," he muttered softly, as he turned and walked back over to his clothes, pulling his jacket on without his tee. 

Crouching, Sam gathered the weapons in his tee and pulled to his full height, grabbing the shotgun as he did. "Don't worry about the machete, I have more. Night, Dean," Sam said as he walked toward the edge of the treeline toward his waiting car.

Dean didn't answer. He stood there for long after Sam's car roared away, fighting his demons... forcing himself not to go to Sam's room again. Other thoughts ate at him, tempted him, told him he could take a single taste, that he could fight it... that he could beat the need to drain and stop before he killed. 

When he finally headed for his own car, Dean didn't know whether what took place tonight made things better or worse, but change was in the air. 

* * *

Dean got to school early and timed it so he left his car just as Sam reached it. He cleared his throat and searched Sam's face. Seeing no signs that either Sam was going to run the hell away from him, or that he was still angry, he muttered a few words about the weather. Rubbing his neck, he looked over at Sam. "If you want to meet after class to work on the project, we can maybe go to the library." 

 

Sam frowned and looked over at Dean. "Just my luck," he said with a sigh. "I can't meet with you tonight, sorry. I have a date."

"Stacy." The name came out like an accusation, before Dean got a hold of himself. "Some other time then," he gave a nod, and looked away. "See ya in class."

Sam frowned, reaching a hand out, he grabbed Dean's arm. "No! Not Stacy! What the hell is it with you and her!? You WANT me to go out with Stacy!? What, she pay you to annoy the hell outta me about it!? It's some girl from the Res. I went home last night to find half the damn Res in my fucking living room waiting for me! This girl, uh," Sam waved a hand trying to remember her name, "Kim, her three brothers, one of which was giving me the creeps, and her grandfather. It wasn't MY idea. My Great Aunt and her Grandfather cooked up this little plan, not me!"

"It's cool, you don't have to explain to me," Dean said, looking at Sam's hand on him. Gently, he pulled away. "When's the wedding. You know, when the whole family comes calling it means..." He gave another half shrug, covering the feelings stirring deep inside him. Telling himself it was for the best. Sam needed to do normal human things, like dating, and finding someone else to dream about. Someone who wasn't constantly on the verge of killing him.

Sam grit his teeth together, narrowing his eyes at Dean. "I'm not sure when the wedding is. YOU seem to be playing hard to get, so at this rate, probably sometime in my next life!" Sam spat back at him, deliberately making it about Dean and not about this Kim girl who he had half ignored last night. 

He had only stayed in the living room out of manners and respect for his Great Aunt. Not because he wanted to be there, and definitely not because he was interested in the girl.

Dean gave him a pained look. "I'm not acting anything. Just trying to keep you safe, since you aren't interested in your own safety." He moved away to allow some students to pass between them and into the building.

Sam shook his head, "Nope. I'm interested in you. Safety is highly over rated," he answered, before continuing into the building., then turning around and walking backwards. "If you wanna get together after the date, meet me in my room. We can work there. I won't be out late." Sam rolled his eyes, "Trust me."

"You're inviting me to your _room_ after..." Hell no, he wasn't bringing up that powder keg again. "Alright. If I'm feeling in control and you promise to behave." He smirked, but he was serious.

Sam grinned and stopped walking, his head falling forward for a brief moment, before he looked back up at Dean. "Yeah, I promise not to molest you in my room." 

"Good, cause I was real worried." Dean felt his family walking up behind him. "Crap." They'd seen so there would be questions, and reports back to Esme and Carlisle, and more questions. "Vamps are gossips," he confided, leaving Sam to walk ahead, as he went to join his siblings without looking back.

* * *

Sam stood in his room, pulling on a long sleeve shirt over his tee when a knock sounded on his bedroom door. "Come in." 

His Great-aunt Cathleen came flittering into the room like some deranged fairy Godmother, as if he was getting ready for the ball. She came to a stop behind him, wrinkling her nose at his reflection in front of the old-fashioned full length mirror in the room. "You're really going to wear that, Samuel?" she asked him, quirking a brow. 

Sam's eyes met hers in the mirror. "Well, yeah, why not?" And what was with the 'Samuel'? 

Great-aunt Cathleen shook her head, frowning. "A lady likes her man to dress up for her." 

Sam sighed, "Well, it works then, because I'm not 'her man,'" he told his aunt, watching her in the mirror as she moved around his room. 

"Watch your mouth, boy. Don't be fresh with me, you know what I mean." 

Sam sighed, hung his head, "Yes, ma'am." 

"Besides, when you take her home, her brothers and Grandfather will be there." 

Sam's eyes widened, "I have to go in!?" 

That question got him a dirty look focused his way in the mirror. "Are you not a gentleman?" 

Sam sighed, "But, that brother of hers, the oldest one," Sam made a face, "He creeps me out." 

His aunt swatted him in the back of the head, "Don't be such a racist! He's a fine young man!" Living near a reservation, she’d had her fill of people who made judgments about those from the res based on how much someone had left their old ways and looks behind and could fit in with the townsfolk. Kim’s brother had long black hair, fierce features and evoked images of a young man in warrior clothes. 

Sam ducked and sighed, turning his head to look at his Great-aunt. "I'm not gonna be out long, I have...." Sam pressed his lips together, as he tried to think of what to tell his aunt. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "I have another date. With someone of _my_ choosing. We have a project for school to work on anyway, so..." he shrugged, having added the bit about school when he had seen his Great-aunt open her mouth to argue. 

Instead she snapped her mouth closed and gave him a curt nod. "Do I know this girl?" she asked him.  
Sam shifted his weight nervously, "Um, well, actually, it's not a girl..." his eyes slid over to her in the mirror to gauge her reaction. He watched as she pressed her lips together, turned and walked out of his room, closing the door softly behind her. 

Sam hung his head with a sigh. Great. Now his Great-aunt thought he was gay. Would probably tell his Dad the next chance she got and then all hell would break loose... Wonderful. He turned away from the mirror and went to his dresser, grabbing his cologne. Not like he cared what they thought. Not really... and his Dad would understand, once Sam explained... he hoped.

Twenty minutes later, Cathleen followed Sam to the front door of the house as he made to leave. "It's alright, you know? I'm glad you were honest with me. If I'd known, I wouldn't have arranged this thing with Kim. Just be sensible and don't tinker with her affections, alright? I'll put out some feelers, see what young men might be interested. They're a bit harder to come by in a small town like this but, I'll find them," she said, closing the door behind him with a shake of her head. He certainly didn't seem gay to her, but she knew that was her small town mind at work... trying to fit him within a stereotype. She wondered how John felt about all this. 

* * *

Dean paced outside the house, resolving to give Sam a few minutes to himself before he joined him. He'd arrived just in time to hear a little bit of conversation between Sam and his aunt and figured out that Sam hadn't been back for long. Now the light in his room was on, so he had to be waiting for him. 

Three minutes later, he decided Sam had had enough time. With the lithe movements of a cat, he jumped up to the window ledge on the second story and looked inside. The room was empty, so Sam had to be in the bathroom. Giving two sharp knocks, he swung himself inside the open window, leaning back to make it through in a single motion. 

 

Sam walked out of the bathroom, and stopped dead in his tracks. "Uh," hazel eyes slid from Dean to the tee and shorts on his bed and back to Dean. He was wearing only a towel slung low on his hips, hadn't planned on Dean being there so soon and had wanted to clean up a little and get comfortable before he showed up. "I didn't know you'd be here so soon." Sam licked his lips. "Thought you might knock."

 

He'd seen Sam semi-undressed twice now, but tonight it was different. Water droplets clung to his flushed skin and heat practically steamed off him in the cool air. Dean didn't even try to hide the fact he was looking, memorizing the sight. When his eyes finally rose to meet Sam's, he had trouble mustering up a smile. "I ... knocked." 

Sam licked his lips, shifted his weight nervously as he nodded, jaw tense. "Oh." He looked again toward the bed and his clothes, then back to Dean. "I'll, uh, just get dressed." Sam told him, before walking the rest of the way to the bed, grabbing up his clothes in one hand.

"Okay." He waited a long moment, then managed to turn his back. It didn't mean his mind wasn't on how fucking good Sam looked. He wondered what he felt like, what it would be like to run his palms across his smooth skin the way Sam had touched him last night. 

Sam looked over at Dean as he turned away and swallowed. The way Dean had looked at him had felt like a branding, as if Dean were touching him without using his hands. Exhaling slowly, Sam straightened, clothes in hand, and looked at Dean again before glancing toward the bathroom. Making a decision, Sam let the towel fall to the floor, before stepping into his boxers and pulling them up, his eyes never leaving Dean as he did. His basketball shorts were next, then Sam grabbed his tee. "I think it's safe now," Sam mumbled as he separated the material, bringing it up to pull over his head.

Turning back, Dean sat down on the chair near the window. "You know, it would help if you didn't look as good as you smell. Let me see your hand," grinning as Sam lifted it, he added. "Just checking to make sure I didn't miss the wedding. How was the date?"

Sam huffed and lowered his hand as he sat down on the bed. He shrugged. "Kim's nice. Shy, quiet," his eyes widening slightly as he added, "Thank God!" he was comparing her to Stacy and her big mouth and he was sure Dean knew it. "She knows I'm not interested though," he told Dean as he reached for his notebook and pencil. 

Sitting down on his bed, back against the headboard, Sam frowned down at his notebook, "She's not the one who worries me though, it’s her brother." Sam looked up, "I could swear he was... smelling me," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"I probably should say something like 'give her a chance...'" but it wasn't very likely. He'd only just resisted following Sam, then the fact that Sam was going onto the reservation had been a big factor in his success at hanging back. "Maybe you should just stay away from both of them, if you're getting strange vibes." Dean let go of the window frame and got his own book. 

Sam quirked a brow, and smiled softly but didn't say anything as he watched Dean get his book out. Returning his attention to their studies, Sam licked his lips, pressing the pencil eraser to his bottom lip as he looked down at the book. "So, have you gotten anything done on your own yet?" Sam asked. "I wrote Juliet's letter to Romeo, and NO, you can't hear it or read it."

"Why not?" Getting up, Dean dropped the ads he'd written and illustrated onto Sam's bed. Putting one knee on the bed, he put his hand out for Sam's papers. "Gonna see it sooner or later anyway." 

Sam looked up, lips parted, eyes wide as he shook his head. "No! It's...embarrassing! And _why_ do you have to see it at all? Mrs. Appleby is the only one who _has to_ see it. Read it. " Sam tucked the paper under his legs, "No way. Forget it."

"How's it gonna be part of the magazine we're _both_ writing? Besides, I need to check your spelling." Moving swiftly, Dean leaned in and grabbed the edge of the paper. That was when he realized how close his face was to Sam's. His heady scent filled his nostrils and for a moment, he couldn't pull back even if he'd wanted to. He heard Sam's heart kick up a notch, and wanted to reassure him, but there were no guarantees. Swallowing hard, he tried to pull the paper away without tearing it.

Sam's eyes widened even more if that were possible at Dean's words, his mouth opened as he was about to ask Dean what he was thinking, that Sam was five!? Check his spelling... But then, Dean was right there, his face near Sam's and Sam couldn't think of anything else but Dean as hazel eyes locked with green/gold. His heart started to race and he knew it, but it wasn't fear that was singing trough his body, making him tense and swallow hard as he continued to stare unwaveringly into Dean's eyes. 

He felt Dean pull on the paper under him and Sam's hand moved, fingers curling around Dean's wrist. "Please." Sam whispered, still gazing into green/gold hued orbs. "If - if you have to know... I'll - I'll read it to you."

Nodding, Dean pulled his hand away, trying to process the sensations rippling through his body as his palm slipped over and past Sam's. He knew then that if he had a working heart, his would be thundering as loudly as Sam's... and knew exactly why. "Okay, read it to me," he agreed, moving back but still in Sam's space.

Clearing his throat as he tore his gaze away from Dean's. Sam looked down at the paper and licked his lips. "I can't believe I'm reading this to you," he muttered. 

Taking a deep breath, Sam started to read, "My dearest Romeo, though I knowest our love is forbidden by thy father and mine, I doth not care for when thou look at me, I feel more love than I have ever known before. Cherished and adored. And when I gaze into the depths of thine eyes I see the love of my life, the beginning of all my tomorrows, my future and my eternity. I doest not care what others think or sayeth for what we have is beyond words, beyond all that they could ever hope to understand or experience. The feel of thine lips on mine, soft and hard at once, ignites in me a flame I never knew there to be. When thou touchest me I feel complete in you. Memories of the sweet and delicious ache that wracks my body under your skillfull hands warms me on nights when we cannot be together, my love." Sam cleared his throat, slowly looking up at Dean, "It, uh, goes on like that for a while." he shrugged and licked his lips.

Every word affected Dean in a way he hadn't thought possible. The heat that Juliet described coursed through his own body, filling his own head with similar thoughts about a seventeen year old boy who had no idea what he was doing to him. 

"Shakespearean porn... we'll both know what the teacher is doing if she hides in the closet," he gave a small laugh. "No... I know it's not porn," Dean raised his hand to silence Sam, who’d opened his mouth to protest. "It's beautiful, and full of emotion, and dangerous..." Slowly, he brushed his mouth across Sam's cheek. "Don't move." 

Hazel eyes followed Dean's movements, a small sigh escaping at the feel of Dean's lips on his cheek. Eyes closing, Sam licked his lips, was about to turn his head, make it a real kiss, when Dean told him not to move, his forehead creased in a frown, frustrated. "Dean..." Sam whispered his name, a plea for more, soft and tortured and full of desire.

Dean's entire body responded to the plea, his muscles tensing, his mind filling with images of himself pushing Sam down and kissing him, of tasting his mouth.... of tasting his sweet blood. He lightly kissed Sam's temple and then worked his way back, touching the corner of Sam's mouth with his before pulling away slightly so only a few millimeters separated their mouths. 

"Is this what hell feels like? Wanting something you maybe can never have? Is this how _she_ feels when it doesn't seem possible? Juliet?" he demanded.

Sam's eyes flickered open as Dean spoke and now he searched his face. Taking an unsteady breath Sam shook his head, "She was willing to die for love. Are you?" he whispered back, his voice now husky with desire. "Because I am." Slowly, Sam's hand moved, raising it to thread his finger's through the back of Dean's short soft hair. "What are you willing to do for something you want?" 

Oh God, if felt good to be touched. To be so close, even when he had to struggle... to fight to maintain his control. Dean's mouth burned... it ached to touch Sam's. Just one taste, just one. But could he stop there? He blinked, trying to curb his dark side, force it down. Trying to fight the force of this attraction. "That's not the right question. Not the right question at all." 

Dean’s tongue darted out to wet his suddenly dry lips. "You should be asking me if I'm willing to kill for it... not to die for it. And you already know you're not willing to do that... to kill for it, you came to me unarmed. _Twice."_


	6. Chapter 6

It took everything Dean had to pull away then. It was that or kiss Sam senseless and maybe take his life. Moving across the room, he sat down heavily on the chair and just looked at Sam. 

 

Sam’s hand slid from Dean's hair as the vampire moved away suddenly. He looked at Dean, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. That was it? He was just going to end it there. Just like that? "Has anyone else ever told you you're a prick tease? Cause you are," he huffed, returning his attention to the work they had to do.

 

Dean shook his head. "No... _that's_ a new one for me."

 

Eyes on some of the illustrations Dean had given him, Sam spoke, "Oh, I'm ditching school tomorrow, so I won't be in third period, you'll have to muddle through without me." 

 

"Ditto." When Sam looked up, he explained. "Weather forecast says there'll be sun. Not good for my complexion," he winked. "What do you think? Are those good enough to turn in to the graphics department?"

 

"They're great," Sam nodded, setting them aside and scooted forward to the edge of his bed facing Dean. "So... you just stay home on sunny days? Lock yourself away and pray for rain? No wonder you live here." He smirked slightly. "Spend the day with me. What do ya say?"

 

Dean laughed at the idea he'd lock himself away. "And contribute to the delinquency of a junior?" He was tempted. So fucking tempted.

 

Sam grinned, "Yeah, something like that, I guess," he answered, head hanging for a second before he looked back up at Dean, hazel meeting green/gold. "What have you got to lose?"

 

"You're right, I've already lost my mind and my... what the fuck is left?" He was still undecided but the look on Sam's face pushed him over. He nodded. "What time do you want me?"

 

"Wow... uh," Sam cleared his throat, "Meet at say eight o'clock? Your place or mine?" Sam asked, a grin pulling at his lips.

 

"Yours. Mind if I ask why you're ditching. You don't seem the type." If he'd had to guess, Dean would say that Sam was a straight 'A' student who didn't break the rules, school rules that was. "Something happen at school that you're trying to avoid?" There might have a been a touch of steel in Dean's voice as he thought someone or something might be bothering Sam.

 

Sam shrugged, "No, not really. Stacy bugs the hell outta me, but I can handle that. Just..." he sighed, "I miss my Dad." Sam licked his lips, "I plan on checking a few things out. No big deal." he said with a shrug.

 

"Checking what out?" Hell, it would be so much easier if he could just Godamned read Sam like he could everyone else.

 

Sam shrugged, "It's nothing, really. Just a feeling I got when I met Kim." Sam smiled at him, "So, what do we do on our day off?"

 

Dean shook his head. "You agree to spend a day with a vampire, and then you ask that as an _afterthought_? I could bring a movie, or we could go hiking. You want me to come up here or do the traditional 'knock on the front door' thing?"

 

Sam smirked at him, shook his head. "I was actually asking what you wanted to do, so I’d know what to expect. You know, jacket, no jacket. Shorts, jeans, that kind of thing," he chuckled, "Only _my_ vampire would like hiking," he nodded. "Hiking sounds good. We can talk more that way. Uh, doesn't really matter if you come in through the door or window. My Aunt will be at work by then, so, she won't know you're here either way." Thinking about her, he huffed, "She has it in her head to fix me up with every gay boy in the town now. When will parents, or whatever," he waved a hand, "stop trying to fix guys up with people?" he flopped back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

 

"One prospective date and I'm _your_ vampire. Tell me do you keep sharks and piranhas too?" Dean gave an amused chuckle. "I thought she was setting you up with girls."

 

Sam stayed as he was, looking up at the ceiling, "I told her you were coming over, that I wasn't going to stay out late with Kim because someone _I_ picked was coming over. A guy." He paused, licked his lips, his voice was softer when he spoke again, "I've thought of you as _my_ vampire long before 'one prospective date'."

 

Crossing the small room, Dean sat down on the edge of the bed. "You mean I had you when I almost kicked your ass for driving like an idiot and trying to take my spot in the parking lot." Smirking, he reached out and touched Sam's hair, stroking it gently. It was as soft as he'd imagined when he'd thought this could never happen, him sitting this close and touching Sam. Exposure did help. He traced the lines of Sam's face, running his thumb over that enticing mouth of his. 

 

Sam smiled up at Dean as he sat there looking down at him. Yeah, okay, maybe not at that exact moment, but soon after, he was hooked, yeah. Hazel eyes watched Dean's hand move upward until he couldn’t follow it any longer, then his eyes returned to Dean's face as Dean stroked his hair.

 

His eyes never left Dean's face as Dean traced his own slowly. Wanting so bad to move, to ask for more, but afraid if he did, this small slice of heaven would disappear never to be recaptured. And then it was gone all too soon anyway, Dean had shot across the room to sit in that damned chair once more. As Sam slowly sat up, he swore to himself that he was going to burn that chair the first chance he got.

 

Swallowing at the intensity of feeling still shooting through him, Dean tried to regain control over his emotions. 

 

"So, um," Sam licked his lips, bit his bottom lip thoughtfully as he looked over at the work they had done. "Are you, uh, you going to write for Romeo?"

 

"Alright, I'll do that." Dragging his gaze away from the sight of Sam's tongue peeking out for the shortest moment, he asked. "What are you thinking? Right now?"

 

Sam quirked a brow and shrugged, smiling as he looked over at Dean, "Lots of things. Why? What are you thinking?"

 

"That it's driving me crazy that I can't see inside your head." Sheer frustration emanated from him in waves. "No really, what were you thinking?

 

Sam chuckled slightly, tilting his head, "You can read minds? Really?"

 

"Everyone's but yours. You're not gonna answer me, are you?" He started closing his notebook and capped his pen. "What if I warned you that your aunt... your GREAT aunt plans to way lay you and take you to Seattle to get you some nice new 'date clothes.' Isn't that worth something?"

 

Sam had pulled to his feet, intent on stopping Dean from going, or at least trying to. Now with this new information, Sam groaned, head tilting back as if in pain. "Oh gawd." 

 

"Okay, I'll tell you," Sam said a moment later, reaching out and laying a hand on Dean's shoulder, "Just don't go. Not yet."

 

Dean gave a nod, resisting the urge to put his hand over Sam's. What would it be like to tug him down, to have him on his lap? His eyes slightly darkened at the thought of the sheer torture of having to battle his cravings in that position. 

 

Sitting back down on the bed, Sam sighed, "Well, first I was thinking that I was going to burn that chair. Then I was thinking about how there was that awkward moment of silence there and I wasn't sure what to do, cause well," Sam raised a brow and smirked softly, "you're kinda like a timid little bunny rabbit. I'm afraid to move too quickly for fear you'll jump out my window." Sam sighed and looked down at the papers next to him, "And then, I was thinking about the letters... about, um," he frowned thoughtfully as he tried to think of a way to say it without telling Dean that Dean had been _his_ inspiration for Juliet's letter. "I was thinking that I doubted your inspiration would come from the same place as mine." Sam said, before looking back at Dean and smiling, "See? Boring stuff, right?" 

 

"Timid," Dean gave a bark of laughter. "You really have no clue Sam. Maybe I'll show you tomorrow what I'm scared of, what you should be scared of. And your mind isn't boring, not to me.” He paused. “Basically you want me to play Romeo to your Juliet, right?" His gaze locked with Sam's. "Are we _role playing?_ I know about that. Not a bad idea for us..." he mused at the possibilities it would open up.

 

Sam cleared his throat, looked back down at the letter and tried to pretend to focus on it. "Uh, well, I, uh..." he licked his lips nervously before looking back at Dean, "Role-playing?" He quirked a brow, "I'm not Juliet though. I'm a guy, in case you hadn't noticed."

 

"I noticed." Dean's heated gaze traveled up and down Sam's decidedly male physique. "I mean you keep getting undressed in front of me, even a vampire notices these things." Giving a wicked grin, he decided teasing Sam was high on his list of things he enjoyed. 

 

Sam quirked a brow and shook his head, "No, you just keep coming in my window when I'm not dressed. If I _got undressed_ in front of you, you'd know it," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a satisfied smirk.

 

"You got undressed in front of me last night in the clearing," Dean pointed out. "And you only had a towel around you earlier. You _know_ I want to know what you're thinking right now." Yeah, Sam was gonna drive him crazy. If he weren't indestructible, he'd say Sam was gonna drive him to an early grave.

 

Hours passed as they talked and talked. Questioning each others' likes and dislikes, learning about their pasts... about each others' families. Dean noticed that Sam was yawning and needed his rest, so he got up. "Dude, it's only a couple of hours," he said, trying to stop Sam's protests, even though he was pleased Sam didn't want him to leave. About to launch himself out the window, he turned. "What was your dream?" The need to know burned inside him.

 

Sam looked at Dean, eyes widening. He shook his head. "No. No way. So not telling you that. Maybe... one day. When I think you can handle it." Sam winked at him grinning.

 

Dean pressed his lips together, not pleased with the non-answer but unable to do anything about it. Seconds later, he was out the window, on the driveway and racing into the woods. If he was spending the day with Sam, he wanted to be sure to be well fed, for all that helped him in resisting his personal addiction.

 

* * *

 

Sam had set his alarm for only two hours later. He needed to be up and on Reservation land by six if he was going to meet with Dean by eight. Kim and her family had made Sam's hunter instincts kick into high gear, much more so than even Dean and his siblings. Something was off on that Res and Sam was going to find out what the hell it was. Were there more vamps? Maybe an enemy nest? Dean hadn't mentioned having enemies around, but then, why would he tell him about them anyway? Dean obviously thought Sam wasn't a very competent hunter. Besides, he tended to worry over him like he was a little kid. 'Watch out for me, Sam', 'I'm dangerous, Sam'.

 

Waking with the first buzz of his alarm, Sam quickly got ready. He was sliding into the driver seat of his car, dressed, showered, shaved and ready to go fifteen minutes later.

 

Reservation land wasn't far away, so it hadn't taken him long to get there, another five minutes and Sam was standing in the middle of a dirt path, a block away from Kim's house.

 

After a few usual procedures to inspect things, try to get a feel for what he was looking for, Sam was now only a few yards away from Kim's house, crouching in the early morning shadows.

 

"Nice, Winchester. One date and you're stalking my baby sister," came a male voice behind him.

 

Sam froze as he tried to place which of Kim's brother's it was, before he slowly pulled to his feet and turned, only to find her oldest brother, the one who freaked him the hell out, standing there looking at him, his head tilted to the side, arms crossed over his chest.

 

"Uh, hi, um," Sam tried to remember his name, "Trevor, right?"

 

The tall, broad shouldered Indian youth didn't answer as his arms dropped to his sides and he stepped closer until he was standing toe to toe with Sam, dark eyes staring into hazel. "You hang with the Cullen's," he stated, sniffing and curling his lip.

 

Sam frowned. Was he smelling him again, or did he have a cold? _Please have a cold. Please have a cold._

 

Trevor's eyes narrowed and searched Sam's face, "I can understand why Dean likes you. You're very beautiful," he told him, raising his hand and running it down the side of Sam's face then stopping to lay it on Sam's shoulder. "You need to be careful around him. Trust me. The Cullen's aren't what they appear to be." 

 

Sam raised his chin stubbornly as he shrugged off Trevor's hand, "And what exactly is that?"

 

Trevor smiled, his hand falling to his side. "Ask Dean why he never comes onto Indian land." He said before turning and walking away.

 

** *

 

Sam arrived back at his house at two minutes after eight. Parking the Impala in the drive, Sam hurried to the front door and inside. Running up the stairs, muttering cuss words under his breath as he ran. Late. He was fucking late. Dean was never late. Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

 

Dean had been looking out of Sam's window, and turned when Sam got into the room. "So, do you always do this? Two dates, back to back?" He raised a brow. He had no clue where Sam had been but he was starting to see that the guy like to pack several activities into a short period. Then it hit him, a pungent scent. He moved closer and sniffed, wrinkling his nose. "What the hell... did you sleep with dogs? You don't smell like _you_."

 

"I didn't have a date," Sam told Dean as he stepped past him, frowning harder as he tried to sniff his shirt to see what Dean was talking about. "I smell fine. This is clean. What do you mean, sleep with dogs? I went to the Res, was looking around and ran into Kim's brother," Sam shrugged, "that's all. I didn't mean to be late, I'm sorry. The guy was... weirder than usual."

 

"Dogs. Figures." He tried not to let his mood darken as suspicion formed in his mind. He'd ask Alice to see if she could see anything, and he'd find out about this guy. Knowing Sam... yeah he was a real danger magnet. "I'll wait."

 

Sam frowned at him, "What are you talking about? Dogs? Wait? What, you want me to take a shower?"

 

"Well, yeah." Dean nodded like it wasn't a strange request.

 

Sam's smile fell away as he looked at Dean. "I can't believe you're serious. The guy barely touched me. How can you smell that? And what do you mean dog?" Sam shook his head as he walked to his dresser, grabbing a clean shirt. "You wanna check these? Give 'em the ole smell test?" Sam grinned, "Or you could just bathe me," he chuckled.

 

"Clothes smell fine." Dean leaned close and took another sniff. "Yeah... definitely want you to shower. If I'm gonna be tortured by your scent one way or the other... I'd rather it be 'the other.'" Walking to the wooden chair Sam had threatened to burn, he turned it around and sat with his chest leaning against its back and looking outside. "Promised to behave," he reminded him. It wasn't as if the invitation to wash Sam had slipped right by him.

 

"Yeah. Behave. Right," Sam said crossing the small room. "You're not gonna jump out the window while I'm gone, are you?" Without waiting for an answer, he closed the bathroom door behind him. 

 

Ten minutes later, Sam walked out, hair still wet, though he was fully clothed and even had his shoes on again. "Better?"

 

Dean sighed. "No. Now I just want to eat you." Slapping Sam on the arm as he passed him, he reached the door. "Guess you have to do that human thing... eat breakfast. Your aunt... Great aunt... has left you something. Pancakes." Turning, he nodded, "bring your jacket."

 

Sam quirked a brow at Dean, "That's something I'm going to have to get used to. You knowing ahead of time what I have waiting for me." Chuckling, he grabbed his jacket. "Yeah, breakfast sounds good. Too bad though, you could have taken me out the window otherwise. Maybe next time, huh?" Sam asked, starting down the stairs.

 

"Maybe." As he followed Sam, Dean realized he'd never smiled as much as he did when he was around Sam. He was starting to get what the others, especially Esme, were saying about how much more animated he was now.

 

In the kitchen, Sam filled his plate, offering Dean some. "Are you sure you don't want to just try a taste?"

 

Dean gave a shudder, and put his hand up. "No thanks, you go ahead." He stood on the other side of the counter, watching Sam move around and get a full glass of milk. "You didn't get much sleep last night. Humans need sleep. Especially humans who are doing crazy dangerous things like walking into strange places alone."

 

Sam looked up at Dean, milk glass half raised to his lips. "It's what I do, Dean. I do it every day of my life," he shrugged, "Well, except for right now, cause Dad's gone and left me here in Forks to rot," he grumbled, raising the glass to his lips and taking a drink.

 

Lowering the glass, Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "Besides, I've never heard of a vampire that mother hens someone as much as you." Sam frowned at him before his lips curved into a teasing grin. "Aww, do you care about me, Mister Vampire?"

 

"Oh yeah, I care. Like the witch cared for Hansel, you know the story?" Giving an equally wicked grin, Dean answered. "And you don't have a Gretel to save your ass," he pointed at Sam as if to make a point. Pausing, he added as an afterthought. "You hate it here, in Forks."

 

Sam shrugged, "Not really, not anymore. I did, yeah..." he pressed his lips together as he looked at Dean, smiled slightly, "And then I met this vampire..." he shrugged, smiling wider, "It's not so bad here now."

 

Sam ran his finger through the syrup on his plate, "I want you to try some stuff," he looked up at Dean from under his brows, a smirk pulling at his lips and making his dimples show. "No arguing," he added as he brought his finger to Dean's mouth, "Just try it." Sam sighed, "If you plan on eating me, call it a last request."

 

"Nuh huh," Dean shook his head to no avail, Sam's finger stayed put right on his mouth. Sighing, he flicked his tongue out and took just a little of the sticky stuff off the tip of Sam's finger, giving a visible shudder. "No, it doesn't improve your taste at all, if that's what that stuff is supposed to do." But he'd felt Sam's finger under his tongue, felt his pulse, and the craving he was trying to learn to live with kicked up a notch. "Do a vampire a favor and step back, for a while." He gave Sam a pointed look.

 

Sam smiled, bringing the finger Dean had licked to his own mouth and sucking the remains of syrup off as he took a step back. He shook his head as he pulled his finger out of his mouth, still smiling. "Okay, so you don't like the taste of maple syrup, I'll be sure never to drizzle it on then," he winked and then opened the freezer. "Ice cream! Everyone likes ice cream." 

 

Sam put the tub on the counter and popped the top. "I take it you would rather I used a spoon than my finger again?" He asked him quirking a brow. 

 

It must have shown on his face, or Sam must have noticed from the way Dean was gripping the edge of the table and alternatively eyeing Sam's finger and mouth. From the moment Sam had licked his finger, all Dean wanted was to push his tongue inside Sam's mouth, make him suck on his tongue the way he'd sucked on his own finger. He swallowed. "What? What did you say?"

 

Sam nodded to the ice cream. "Spoon or my finger? You know what? Nevermind. I'll use a spoon. The finger would be more fun, but I don't want you jumping out any windows." He reached over opening the utensil drawer and pulling out a spoon. Dipping it into the ice cream, Sam scooped a small amount up and handed Dean the spoon. "Here. Try that."

 

Dean backed away from it. "Seriously, don't want any. Just eat your breakfast and... don't lick anything else. Not your finger, not your spoon or fork... just eat." Blowing out a frustrated breath, he wondered if Sam even knew the type of control he had to exert over his needs to keep him safe.

 

Sam frowned, giving Dean his best, what his Dad had always referred to as Sam's 'puppy eyes', look. "Aww, come on. Please? For me? I just wanna see if you like it." Sam pouted.

 

"I'd like to see what you'd have to say about tasting my food," Dean growled, opening his mouth ever so slightly and jamming a tiny bit of the cold concoction inside. He made a face, and walked to the sink, dropping the spoon down. At least this way he made sure Sam wouldn't do anything sexy with it. 

 

Sam watched Dean, shook his head. "You know, there are starving children in Asia who would love that bit of ice cream you just spit in the sink," he told him with a grin. "Drink blood? Really? Would that... excite you? To see me do that?" He asked him, quirking a brow.

 

The thought of blood smeared across Sam's mouth... it wasn't animal blood Dean imagined, it was Sam's own blood, so sweet so spicy... so perfect. He took one leaden step toward the teasing teen and stopped, his eyes darkening. "Don't be evil like that. I know you think I'm just like everyone else, but I'm not. I'm really not, Sam." His gaze lingered on the pulse at the column of Sam's throat, and still he fought down his needs. "You ever had cats?"

 

Sam blinked, tore his gaze away from Dean's, smile falling away as he took a bite of his breakfast. He shook his head. "No never had any pets. Move around too much." He took a drink and looked back at Dean, licking his lips, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." Sam sighed, looked back at his plate and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah..."

 

Dean felt a stab of guilt the instant the smile disappeared from Sam's face. "You wiggle something in front of a cat and it gets obsessed with it. Eventually it'll pounce, I'm just saying..." he looked away for a moment as he got his thoughts together, then back. "Don't get me wrong, I like when you tease and laugh, I'm just... I'm worried I'll pounce. You shouldn't have to deal with this. You should be able to joke and touch and ..." he didn't say kiss, but it was on Dean's mind, "... things you can with other humans. Do you want to rethink today? That would be the _smart_ thing to do."

 

Sam finished his breakfast and nodded. "Yeah, I was kinda thinking about today actually," he said with a sigh as he took his plate to the sink. He turned and looked at Dean after setting down the plate. Leaning back against the counter, Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at him. "I think we shouldn't have done this today..." Sam looked down, then back up at Dean, "I think we should have done this a long time ago," the corner of Sam's mouth lifted in a half smile, "You ready to go? Or am I gonna have to chase you down after you jump out the window?" 

 

If Dean's sinking heart could have given a start, it would have. He didn't know whether it was relief or fear, but whatever it was, it was better than the depression he'd been ready to sink into when he thought Sam made the _right_ decision. "So... not smart?" He managed a grin. "You think you can chase me down, huh?" Now that really amused him, but he managed to keep his laughter to a minimum because he realized how pissed off Sam got ... the guy was competitive as hell.

 

As they headed to the door, Dean looked around at the antique furnishings so different from his own modern house. Outside, he tilted his face up. The sun was still struggling to come out of the clouds, but he knew it would. "You have any fear of heights? Speed?" he asked through hooded eyes, as they walked into the woods behind Sam's place.

 

Sam chuckled as he walked with Dean, shook his head. "Nope. Clowns. Just clowns. Why?"

 

Dean ignored the question. "Motion sickness? Don't like to get your hair messed up... anything like that?" Cathleen Wood's house was pretty much backed up to the foot of a steep hill and soon they'd be climbing instead of taking a leisurely walk.

 

Sam chuckled, shaking his head, "No, dude. I told you. Just clowns. Why? You plan on spinning me around, messing up my hair, and tossing me in the air before you eat me? Cause, I gotta say, I definitely have _never_ met a vampire with those methods of feeding before," he laughed. 

 

Rolling his eyes, Dean jutted his chin up. "Climb me."

 

Sam's eyes widened for a brief moment before he raised a brow, "Excuse me? You want me to what?" he asked, a slight smile pulling at his lips as his eyes traveled over Dean's form.

 

Giving Sam a look, Dean put his hand out. "Get on my back and hold on tight. Legs around my waist."

 

Sam quirked a brow, smirking as he stepped around Dean. He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he placed a hand on Dean's shoulder from behind. "Dude, I'm taller than you and have long legs." he sighed, "If you say so, but if I break your back...." Sam chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Dean, then a leg around his waist, jumping up he wrapped his other leg around him, his other arm around Dean's neck loosely. "Okay, now what?" Sam asked him. Leaning his head down, Sam's lips next to Dean's ear, a smile pulling at his lips he whispered to Dean, "You realize this is vaguely dirty, right?"

 

"More than vaguely, but it won't be in a moment." Dean turned slightly toward the heat of Sam's lips against his hear. "Hold tighter."

 

That was the only warning he gave before taking off at a dead run through the trees so fast the world became a mere blur. He zigzagged and jumped, avoiding trees and roots, climbing higher up the hill, and feeling Sam's grip tightening around him. "Hang on, really hang on," he said, hoping his words would be heart even as the wind snatched them from his mouth. He launched up into the air, landing on a high branch of a tree, and climbing the trunk as fast as he'd been running, until they were at the top of the ancient tree, looking down at the town.

 

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. "That was... amazing. I didn't know you could... I mean, the ones we..." Sam chuckled, adjusting his hold on Dean, "This is unreal... even for me."

 

"Closest you can get to flying without wings." Now that they weren't moving, Dean's awareness of Sam sharpened. They were pressed together, so close, the heat of Sam's body seeping through both their clothes. Every little move Sam made seemed to make Dean's body temperature rise. Trying to concentrate on something else, he started to point out places. "There's the school, the …ah... clearing where you tried to get yourself killed, drive along there, and you hit the beach. My place," holding onto the trunk, he turned with confident ease and pointed, "back there." 

 

Sam nodded as Dean pointed out each place, chuckling as he pointed out where Sam had 'tried to get himself killed'. "Dude, I so was not trying to get myself killed." Sam sobered as one hand slipped to rest against Dean's chest. He licked his lips, took in a shuddering breath. "What, uh, what about the sun? Should we go in somewhere? I mean, it's beautiful up here, but, I don't want anything to happen. What would I do if my tour guide burst into flames on me?" he chuckled nervously.

 

"The sun?" Dean looked up. "No, it can't hurt me. I wouldn't have brought you if it could. It just... when it comes out, I can't hide what I really am." He was suddenly nervous, wondering whether he should just get them down before the clouds broke. He'd thought he wanted Sam to see him, to know everything... what he might be getting into, but now he wasn't so certain. He swallowed. "Maybe you're not ready, maybe..." Maybe Dean himself wasn't ready.

 

Sam tightened his grip around Dean, leaned his head down so he could look at Dean's face from the side. "No. I wanna see. It's okay. Really. You have no idea the things I've seen," Sam told him with a huff, "You can't scare me, Dean."

 

"You're scaring me, Sam." He wanted to hide, but he held still, even as he felt the first rays of sunlight dance across his cheeks.

 

Sam leaned his forehead against the side of Dean's head. "I'm not going anywhere," he told him softly. Raising his head as the sun split through the clouds, Sam looked at Dean a small gasp leaving him, eyes wide. "Dean..." his name was a whispered sigh as Sam raised a hand to gently trail his finger tips over the side of Dean's face where the sun hit him. "You're... beautiful."

 

"Beautiful." Dean mustered a semi-snort. "It's alright. I know the word you're looking for is 'freak.'" He didn't dare move or meet Sam's gaze, afraid of the truth he'd see within them. "You're really not scared."

 

Sam frowned, gave a huff, "Dude, you need a mirror if you think this makes you a freak. You know how many chicks you could get if you showed this?" Sam chuckled softly, still running his finger tips across Dean's cheek, in awe of the way Dean’s skin sparkled like glitter. "I've seen freakish, Dean, and _you_ are not freakish. No, I'm not scared. "

 

It felt good. Real good to be touched like this. Not to be rejected or feared. Dean finally looked Sam in the eyes. "How come you're not disgusted or ... or something. You're a hunter, you know this is just another weapon in my arsenal. Any other hunter, this would have been a turn off a... a reason to understand and know how different I am. Not human." He licked his lips. "Why do you accept it so easily?"

 

Sam shrugged slightly, "Dean, I've always been able to see the grey areas, I told you that. Remember the vampire girl I told you I let live? No other hunter would have done that either, but she wasn't evil. I knew that. She was just... a poor girl that happened to be a vampire in the wrong place at the wrong time." He sighed, "Being a hunter has never been high on my priority list really, because most are like that, like my Dad. All they see is black and white, good and evil. I know better."

 

"This morning, you said 'it's what you do.' It's high on your list," Dean said matter of factly. "You done ogling my... um... what did you say? Beauty?" He wore a smirk. "Cause I'm about to jump down."

 

Sam didn't argue with him about hunting. Dean didn't need to know that it was 'what he did' because it was what his father wanted, because it was what was expected. Because his mother had been killed in his nursery by a demon. Who would understand that anyway? Sam let his hand drop away from Dean's face, curling his fingers into a fist on Dean's shoulder. "Yeah, sorry." he told him softly.

 

"About what?" Dean cocked his head.

 

Sam grinned, "Manhandling your face," he chuckled. 

 

"Oh. I liked it," he answered, jumping down suddenly, but gripping Sam's arm around his shoulder, to make sure he was secure. He landed, sure footed and gave Sam a moment to adjust. "There's a stream close by, a quiet place, if you want to go sit for a while and talk." It was a spot where the sun would reach them and not be blocked by the gigantic trees. A place he would never contemplate going to with any human, until now. 

 

"Yeah, I'd like that." Sam chuckled nervously, "Oh, I suppose I should get down now, huh?"

 

"I guess." Dean missed being surrounded by Sam's warmth... his scent so close, even if it made his life difficult. For a second, they looked at each other a bit awkwardly. Separating, Dean wondered if the longing he saw in Sam's eyes was for real, and whether Sam saw it reflected back. 

 

Sam turned, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder, a smile on his face as he gave a side nod, "Come on. You promised me a stream, I think." 

 

Once they reached the steam, Sam crouched near the water's edge. Looking up the water way, Sam huffed, "I need to get out more. I had no idea this was here," he muttered, moving to sit on his butt in his grass. Slowly he leaned back, bracing himself on his elbows as he looked up at Dean, moved one hand out to pat the ground next to him. "I won't..." Sam licked his lips, smiling, "do anything to make the bunny run away." 

 

"Oh, now that we're not a couple of hundred feet up in a tree, you feel safe calling me that." Giving Sam a mock severe look, Dean sat next to him, more relaxed then he'd thought possible. Cutting a long blade of grass, he started twirling it in his hand. It was weird how easy it was to talk to Sam when he wasn't having a vampire moment. Aside from his family, he'd never been so free with information, but here they were, asking and answering questions... talking about likes and dislikes. Dean filed everything Sam said away in his mind, he'd probably have lots of follow up questions to ask. Every once in a while, he caught him staring, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the sunlight or just... it was just this strong attraction between them. It made him smile though as he looked down at Sam. 

 

Sam smirked up at Dean, glancing toward the water then looking back at Dean he raised a brow, "This isn't the first time I've been with you with the sound of water hitting the rocks in the background." Sam grinned at him, a naughty light in his eyes before he lowered himself flat on his back in the grass, his hands resting on his chest.

 

Sam closed his eyes, licked his lips. "It was foggy and I didn't see you at first, but then the fog cleared and there you were..." Sam huffed softly, "sitting in a damn chair again." I walked toward you and you asked me if I had figured out what you were yet. At the time," Sam shook his head, "I hadn't, but I told you it didn't matter what you were." Sam bit his bottom lip and slowly opened his eyes. "You sure you wanna hear this?" he asked him, his voice now soft, husky. 

 

It was surreal. One moment they were talking about concrete things and then Sam went off about something Dean was sure wasn't true. Then he felt like he was sucker-punched. Lowering himself all the way to the ground parallel to Sam, he turned his head and met his eyes. "Your dream. Your sex dream." He nodded, "tell me please."

 

Sam's tongue darted out to run along his bottom lip as he looked at Dean. Slowly he nodded, "Ok." He closed his eyes . "You said I could be Little Red Riding Hood and you could be the big bad wolf." Sam huffed, "I asked you if that meant you were gonna eat me. But, I kept walking toward you, I told you to go ahead and eat me, that your meal was getting cold, to do it already. You told me to come closer, said me you could hear my heart." Sam licked his lips. "I told you that you wouldn't hurt me, that if you were going to, you would have already but you said that I should be scared." Sam chuckled softly and opened his eyes, looked over at Dean, "Something you seem to tell me a lot."

 

"Cause its true." Dean imagined the scene as Sam spoke, recalling the tension in the sleeping teenager's body, the sounds he made... the sexual electricity coming from him. He felt himself getting wound up all over again and tensed. "Keep going," he whispered.

 

Closing his eyes again, Sam turned his head back, "Your hands ran up my thighs, cupped my ass, as you pulled me closer. You asked me again if I was still not afraid. I told you that I'd learned never to be afraid. You held me then, one hand on my stomach, one on my back, held me tightly and told me I might be walking into the spider’s web." Sam smiled, "I told you I like spiders. Your fingers moved then, playing with the zipper of my jeans." Sam licked his lips, took in a shuddering breath, his voice dropped to a husky whisper, "I asked you if you always played with your food, " Sam bit his lip, "You... you told me only when your food gets turned on, then asked me if this was turning me on." Sam let out a breath, one hand slowly moving from his chest, sliding across the grass toward Dean's hand. 

 

Though he didn’t need to breathe, Dean was breathing. Shallow, labored breaths, like humans did when they were running too hard. Was this what sex felt like? His entire body was slowly catching on fire and they weren't even touching. "What did you answer?" he asked, his voice low and husky, closing his eyes when their hands touched. He took a moment to center himself, to regain some control, before slipping his fingertips over Sam's. "Tell me."

 

Sam slowly opened his eyes looking over at Dean. He nodded, exhaled slowly, his hand tightening around Dean's as he closed his eyes again, licked his lips. "You, uh, ran your hand over my zipper before you cupped me and I asked you, if you really needed to ask that." Sam smiled slightly as he bit his lip, "You said you needed an answer, then asked me if I was afraid to say it out loud as you squeezed me," Sam's head rolled to the side away from Dean as he swallowed then rolled his head back, "I, uh, I told you ‘yes. God yes’ it was. It was turning me on." Sam drew in a shakey breath, the hand on his chest moving, fingers curling into a fist as Sam cleared his throat. "Uh, the next thing I knew I was on your lap, facing you and you told me to take off my shirt. I did and you ran your hands over me." Sam sighed, "it felt so good to have you touch me." 

 

Sam felt his denim clad cock twitch at the memory and shifted his legs, bending one leg. He frowned, "Uh, I, um," Sam chuckled slightly, "I guess I stopped breathing because you told me I needed to breathe, that you couldn't play with your food if it expired on you," he said with a smile. "We were close, so damn close together." Sam took in a breath, "You asked me why I was there and I told you I was there because I wanted to be there, wanted this. You grabbed my hair, pulled my head back. Your lips were on my throat then, kissing, sucking...then your teeth, scraping...pressing down. Then suddenly you moved and you were kissing me, kissing me so hard and so good that it stole my breath away."

 

Dean's mind whirled with the erotic images Sam painted. His hand clenched and unclenched, though he had to remind himself to be gentle... to not break Sam's hand as he dealt with the feelings sweeping over him. "I want that... so bad," he admitted. "I want to kiss you... to know what you taste like, how you feel from the inside. Did... did we go all the way? In your dream?" The anguish in his voice was hard to miss.

 

Sam opened his eyes, shook his head, bit his lip, "No. I wish... wanted... no," he smiled softly, "I want that too. Maybe...someday... do - do you want to hear the rest?"

 

"Oh God, yes. I want to hear it." It hurt to think he'd never see that day, so he pushed those thoughts down. "Tell me."

 

Sam nodded, licked his lips, but kept his eyes open as he spoke, watching Dean's face this time, "You lifted your hips, ground yourself against my ass, told me to show you how much I wanted this." Sam swallowed hard, "I ground myself back against you, trying to show you, I told you how much I wanted it, wanted you. That I knew you wouldn't hurt me." Sam shook his head, "But you told me I had too much faith in someone I didn't know. Told me not to say you didn't warn me. You cupped the back of my head, my ass, pulled me against you, kissed me hard and wouldn't let up, even when I was running out of air and couldn't breathe. You kept on kissing me, I tried to pull away, but you wouldn't let me. I felt myself drawing close, about to come and I didn't want to not like that, not in my jeans like some twelve year old virgin."

 

Sam closed his eyes, "But, you kept kissing me, grinding on me. All I could feel, smell, taste, hear, was you. I was lost. You finally pulled back and looked at me. You said one word..." Sam bit his lip, before his lips parted his breaths panting out softly, "You said, 'come', and...and..." Sam opened his eyes, blinked, slowly looking over at Dean, "You know the rest, you were there. You saw, heard." Sam swallowed hard.

 

A lump rose in Dean's throat. He threaded his fingers through Sams, still clenching and unclenching his hand. "Even in a dream, I almost killed you... hurt you." His eyes stung. "And you don't care about that, it doesn't worry you." What worried Dean was how much he wanted to roll on top of Sam right now. How much he wanted to grind his arousal into him, to taste him, to really make him come on command, just like in his dream. But different, because he wantd to taste his blood, wanted them to be a part of each other in a way no human could understand, or survive.

 

Sam looked down at their joined hands, then back up at Dean's face, "But you didn't hurt me. Just like I knew you wouldn't." Sam smiled softly, shook his head, "No, it doesn't worry me. I trust you. Believe in you," Sam told him softly, "You're not evil, Dean."

 

"You don't have to be evil to hurt someone." Dean took a breath. "Have you ever... have you had sex with anyone?"

 

Sam quirked a brow, smirked at him. "I'm seventeen, Dean. Not twelve." he shrugged, looked away as he plucked a blade of grass with a free hand. "There was a girl once." he shrugged, "Wasn't anything major." he looked back at Dean, "Why?"

 

Dean shrugged. "You're seventeen and you could be having sex with whoever you go out with. Except me." There, he put it out there. "Even if I could control the blood lust, I'm afraid I'd crush you or... not let you breathe or... so many ways I could be out of control and you're... you're so damned breakable. You should choose normal Sam. Choose normal," he let go of his hand and sat up. "And that's some dream. I'm gonna keep it forever."

 

Sam pulled up, sitting with him, nodding. "Yeah, you're right. I should be some self centered teenager just out to get an easy lay." Sam continued to nod, "totally. And hey, maybe I could die from some sexually transmitted disease. That would be much better than being celibate for my hot vampire boyfriend." Sam continued to nod, "Yeah, I think I like the idea of my dick falling off from some weird ass STD instead." He slapped Dean on the back, "Thanks for the advice buddy." He rolled his eyes, "Are you always so melodramatic? There are worse things than not screwing, ya know. Like a life without knowing real love," Sam said softly, as he wrapped his arms around his knees, laid his cheek against a knee looking at Dean. "Normal for me is _so_ abnormal for everyone else, Dean. You have no idea."

 

Relaxing just a bit, Dean laughed at Sam's outrageous words and shook his head at his quirky and fearless boyfriend, apparently. His gaze locked with Sam. "Am I? Your vampire boyfriend, just like that? One dream, one date? I know it's not me, it's gotta be the danger magnet in you." Still, he was pleased, real pleased. 

 

Sam quirked a brow, "One hot dream and one _very_ nice date." He nodded, "Yeah, I think so... unless you have any objections. I mean, what, you want to wait till I've had a few more dreams?"

 

"No objections, but an open 'out' if you ever want it," he said, though an angry roar in his head made him wonder how truthful he was being. He knew... he knew Sam was better off with anyone else, but whether he could let him go, that he didn't know. "I wish I could dream. I hope you have others. You will tell me." It didn't come out as a request and Dean had the grace to give a sheepish grin. 

Sam sighed, licked his lips. "I wish... I wish that you could dream about me too," he smiled slightly, "there, was that self-centered enough for you?" he quirked a brow. "Cause it's the truth." he huffed, nodding. "The way my mind works... where you're involved, yeah, I probably will have others." He smiled, shook his head, "But, I'm not going to tell you. You do however have an open invitation to climb in my window and watch... just don't knock over the books again and end the dream before it gets to the really hot stuff next time, huh?" Sam grinned wide, dimples showing.

Dean groaned, "so it's my fault we didn't... I'll be quiet." He gave Sam a steady look. "Are you sure? You were so angry..."

Sam chuckled, "I'm a light sleeper, comes with the job. I'm sure. I was... embarrassed. I didn't want my would-be boyfriend seeing that I couldn't control myself and shot my wad in a damn dream!"

"It was beautiful. You're beautiful when you're asleep." Dean’s lips quirked, but he prevented the smile from forming. "Just making nice sounds and not arguing. I wanted to get in the bed with you. I wanted to touch you, feel you with my hands, my mouth. And right now, when we were holding hands... I was imagining everything you said was real. If it had gone on a little longer, I'd be the one shooting my wad. Still might." He got up suddenly. "It's getting late, you're cold. Let's get back."

Sam pulled up, standing to his feet, "Wait a minute. Don't tell me how I feel. I'm not cold, Dean." He shook his head, "I'm a lot of things right now, but cold isn't one of them." He stepped closer to him, "I would have liked having you in bed with me, doing all those things." Sam smirked slightly, "Not without a pre-warning, seeing as I sleep with a pistol under my pillow. It wouldn't have hurt you anyway, but I'm sure it would have killed the mood." 

 

His smile fell as he reached for Dean's hand, "Close your eyes. Trust me. Trust yourself." Sam told him softly, as he slowly brought Dean's hand up, under his shirt, ran it up his stomach, to his chest, held it there. "One day, when you're ready. You just tell me, okay?" Sam asked him softly.

Dean stiffened, reluctantly letting Sam have his way. Eyes closed, he felt the warmth of Sam's skin stretched taut over muscles rippling under his palms. He felt a tiny nub... Sam's nipple tickle his palm, sending heat shooting through his body. He heard Sam's heart lurch, his blood rush. He felt his teeth start to ache... ache with the same need his entire body was fighting against. 

Shoving Sam away suddenly, he retreated back a few feet. "Don't. Trust. Me. That. Much," he gritted out, trying to regain control, his eyes alternatively flashing black and green. "Don't move, vampire moment."

Dean counted in his mind, then mentally recited part of Romeo and Juliet. When the blood lust let go of him, he almost slumped. "Ok... okay now."

 

Sam had stumbled back, watching Dean in wide eyed shock, started to go to him, help him, only to stop dead in his tracks unable to do anything but watch helplessly. "I'm - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." Sam licked his lips, took a step toward Dean. "Are you okay?" he closed the distance between them, reached out to touch Dean, only to curl his fingers into a fist and let his hand drop. Sam swore softly, hanging his head. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, before looking back up at Dean. "I didn't think that just touching me, if you didn't see... didn't know..."

"I feel like draining you of blood, and you ask me if _I'm_ okay?" Scrubbing his face, Dean gave a short laugh. "I'm so fucking afraid of what you're going to do next. What I'm gonna do next." He took a deep breath. "At least I know how you feel now. I don't have to imagine. I need... I need more warning next time, but I'm pretty sure there will be a next time. Are you okay?"

 

Sam smiled softly at him, nodding, "I'm fine. All my blood's intact," he winked. "More warning for next time, eh?" Sam nodded, "We'll work on that." he tilted his head to the side as he looked at Dean, "You..." he licked his lips, blushed slightly, "Imagined what I would feel like? Really?"

"All the time." This was really fucked up. They were worse than Romeo and Juliet. At least it was those two against the world. The greatest danger to Sam's life was himself.

Dean put his hand out again. "Come on, climb me. I'll get you home."

Sam stepped up behind Dean, snickering softly, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around him, then a leg like before. "And before you ask me what I'm thinking..." Sam tried not to snicker anymore and failed, "I was just thinking that I was so glad you didn't say that a few minutes ago, or you'd really be having a vampire moment," Sam laughed outright at that.

"I still could." Dean groaned at the feel of Sam pressing against him. He was so tuned in, so aware of Sam, he could feel every contour of his body, and the heat of cock was like a brand against his back. "No more sex thoughts." Yeah right.

Dean streaked through the forest, running with the speed of his kind. The cold wind was exhilarating and helped take his mind off the needs that surfaced whenever Sam was close. This particular human made him forget everything... made him take chances, risks, but he also made him _feel_. Something about this had to be right, didn't it? It had to.

Before he broke out of the forest, Dean made sure there was no one around. They quickly reached the house and in a single leap, Dean was standing on Sam's window ledge. Though he usually threw himself inside, this time, he carefully made sure Sam didn't hit the window and then they were inside. 

Sam chuckled, eyes dancing with excitement. "That was great! I think you're faster than my car!"

 

Sam pulled his jacket off and tossed it in the chair Dean always sat in. "That's scrap. You can't sit there anymore," he sat down on his bed, patting the mattress next to him. "Sit here. I promise not to molest you."

"Not right now. I can't." Seeing Sam's face fall, Dean gripped the back of the chair. "I'm sorry. I _want_ to be that guy in your dream, but I'm not." He looked over at the window.

"Wait! What? What happened? What'd I miss? I thought we were..." Sam ran a hand through his hair, shook his head, "You can't do that to me. You can't just without warning say stuff like that. What'd I do? What did I say?" Sam swore and pulled to his feet, he looked at Dean, his face serious, "You always ask me if I'm afraid. Well, congratulations. Now...I'm afraid."

"You're more afraid of me leaving than of me killing you." Dean made a frustrated sound and didn't even comment anymore on that. "I'm not leaving you. I'm just leaving for a while. What I meant is, right now I can't be in that bed with you... like your dream version of me could be. That's all I meant." He licked his lips, pleading with Sam to understand. "I have vampire things to do, you have human things to do... you need to eat. I made you miss lunch," he pointed out. "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

Sam relaxed visibly as Dean explained what he meant, "Oh, well, alright then," he waved a finger between them, "We got to work on our communication skills," he smirked at Dean's 'vampire business', "You mean you need a glass of red. It's okay, you can say it. I eat frog legs too," Sam shrugged, "I'm not ashamed. Damn good eatin's. You shouldn't be ashamed or embarrassed or whatever... not with me." He nodded, "Tomorrow. Yeah. Have a good night, Dean." he took a step closer, reached out and ran the back of his fingers down Dean's cheek, "Thanks for today, I enjoyed it," he said, offering a soft smile.

Dean turned his head and brushed his mouth over Sam's pulse, then immediately pulled away. "Me too," he said a bit stiffly. "Too much." With that, he was out the window and gone.


	7. Chapter 7

He was crazy. He was obsessed. He'd even admitted it to Sam. and it was true. His mind was hyper-focused on one thing only, no matter how he tried to distract himself. And his family was no fucking use. The only one who sympathized was Rosalie but she was in her room screwing Emmet's brains out, which didn't help Dean any. 

Holy fuck, he was a mess. Needing to be with Sam, afraid to be with him too much, and then added to that was the purely clinical need to breath his scent to keep himself as desensitized as possible. He'd promised himself he wasn't going to make Sam insane with this too. That he'd let him have as normal a life as he could, which wouldn't be possible if he was over at his place every moment.

And yet... his hand constantly kept going to his cell phone. It was late, almost midnight. Humans needed to sleep. He hit the talk button... Sam's number had been on his screen for hours while he resisted dialing.

Sam was puttering around in his room, having said he was going to bed hours ago, unable to sleep, he had grabbed his iPod and started looking through books and magazines. All that did was make him think of Dean more because it was work for _their_ project. And these damn songs weren't helping either. When the hell had he loaded all these sex songs on here anyway? Tossing the ipod into Dean's chair, as that was what he had come to think of it as, Sam flopped back on his bed, one arm over his eyes. 

His cell vibrating on the night stand drew only half his attention as he blindly reached for it with his free hand and flipped it open, "Mm, yeah?"

"Sam. Did I wake you?" Dean lay back on the comfortable chaise long in his room, and lowered the sound of the music.

Sam moved his arm off his eyes, slowly sitting up in his bed, "No," he shook his head, glancing at the clock, "I , no, you didn't wake me. I was... couldn't sleep."

"You should be asleep, you didn't get any last night," Dean all but growled.

Sam huffed, "Yeah well, maybe if my vampire boyfriend would come over and sit on my bed while I slept I could get some sleep. Instead all I can do is sit here thinking about him!" Sam shot back, though the corner of his mouth was pulling up into a half grin. "Besides, I found that somehow I ended up with a shitload of sex songs on my ipod and those have _not_ been helping my situation any either. You? What are you doing? Or did you just call to bitch at your human boyfriend for not sleeping?"

A smile spread over Dean's face. "I think I'm having the same problem. If my human boyfriend would just get out of my head and stop taunting me with that too-hot mouth of his, I might get some reading done." He licked his lips. "Sex songs, huh? I've got Rosalie and Emmet playing," he groaned, "and don't ever tell them I said anything."

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, I doubt they'd be talking to me much anyway. Hot mouth, huh? And just what is it exactly about my mouth that you like?" Sam asked as he scooted back against the headboard of his bed, arranging the pillows behind him.

"You wanna know?" How the fuck was he supposed to put that into words? He could give it a try since he was the one who expected Sam to answer all his own questions. "Except when you're angry, it’s like your mouth is always just on the verge of smiling. And I don't mean one of those huge smiles, but just the tiniest smile... like a secret smile. That's just the tip of the iceberg. I don't know if you do it just to drive me crazy or what, but you're constantly parting your lips... when you're thinking, when you're sleeping, when you're listening in class and leaning back, with freaking pencil brushing over it... like you're about to put it in your mouth and you make me wait for it." Dean felt his temperature rise, figuratively if not literally. "Let's not even start on the times you let me get a glimpse of your tongue. That answer your question?"

Sam was smirking through it all, "Nah, I don't do that...do I?" he chuckled softly. "My tongue, huh? Uh-oh, here we go." Sam rolled his eyes grinning wide, "And what did my poor tongue ever do to you?"

"Cat, remember? It keeps darting out and making me want to pounce, that's what." As if that was all. "And you curled it around your fingertip this morning. I'm hardly gonna forget about that any time soon." The memory had him licking his own finger, then pulling it out of his mouth with a pop. "Sam? Are we having phone sex here?" 

Sam was chuckling only to have it die way at Dean's question. "I, well, maybe a little bit. Never had it before." He shook his head, "Okay, my turn, what about you and all your little sexual innuendos, eh? There's only so many a man can take."

"What? What innuendos? You're seeing things where there aren't any," Dean said, very sure of himself. 

"Oh sure. I breathe or lick my finger clean and I'm enticing you, but you, you can say things like, 'climb me' and 'I might eat you' and that's suppose to be okay?" Sam chuckled, "I got news for ya, dude, for every one of those little innuendos of yours, I've had to swallow back a reply. Trust me. They're come-ons. Relatively good ones too actually."

"You don't have to hold back your replies. If I could just fucking see in your head..." Reaching up, Dean shut off the light in his room. Even without it, he could see perfectly. "Tell me your answers. Tell me Sammy," he ordered.

"Sammy?" Sam repeated the name only his father had ever called him, a small smirk on his face. He never let anyone else call him that, but coming from Dean, it was different. Good. Right. "Well, when you said 'climb me', I was thinking, 'Oh yeah, I'll climb you alright.' Didn’t you see how I looked at you? And for the 'I might eat you', which is actually my favorite, I thought, 'Oh yeah? I got something for ya to eat alright.' But, see, I was good. I never said them. Just thought them."

"You did climb me," Dean bit his lip, wondering what it would have been like if he'd climbed him face to face. "Yeah, you held back... you were good," he added, thinking of all the images filling his head thinking about what Sam had for him... what was in his shorts. "What if.. what if I'd said yes?" he asked, his voice low and rough with lust now. Dammit, Emmit's sounds of encouragement from upstairs were distracting him...

Sam licked his lips, closed his eyes. "If you had said yes. Mm.. if you'd said yes to my climbing you... I would have wrapped a leg around you, pulled you in close, ground myself against you, as I wrapped my arms around you, held you to me... maybe leaned in placing a soft kiss on your neck, your jaw, your lips. I could have let my wicked tongue dart out and run along your bottom lip...."

Visualizing everything Sam said, Dean groaned. He wanted what Sam was describing, wanted it so bad. Just thinking about him was getting him hard. What would it feel like to press his arousal against Sam's? To feel Sam grinding against him, to have his tongue teasing him like that. His free hand clenched around the arm rest. "Oh God... you don't know how you're making me feel. What... what about the rest?"  
"If you had said yes to eating what I have for you..." Sam made a choked chuckle sound, "Oh God, I think I would have died right there. Before you even got my boxers down. Just the thought of you touching me, your hand on my dick..." 

Sam's own hand had slowly started to move down his body, his palm pressing against his cock in his boxers as his hips moved slowly. "Feel you pumping me, your breath on me, see you look up at me before taking me into your mouth." Sam told him, his voice growing more and more husky as he spoke. His hand dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers as he slowly pumped his shaft in time with the slow movement of his hips.

Heat coiled in Dean's stomach, tightening with every word that came from Sam. It was an impossible dream, but Dean got pulled into it. "I'd lick you first, Sam. Taste you a little at a time. Take in only your tip until I felt your fingers biting into my shoulders. I wouldn't rush it... not even then." He closed his eyes. "I'd tell you not to move, and even if you really needed to... you'd stop, for me. Wouldn't you?" 

Sam's hand, his hips were moving faster, his body tensing as he listened, pictured it, could almost imagine it was real. Sam bit his lip, tried not to make a sound. He'd been told, by the one girl he'd been with, that he was a vocal lover, and he didn't want Dean to hear him now.   
"Hm? Yeah... yeah, I would." Sam told him, his words panted out softly into the phone. "Keep going. Don't stop."

Thinking Sam was telling him what he'd say, Dean continued. "I'd take more of you in my mouth and suck hard, holding your hips so you couldn't move. I'd want to take you in, all the way to the back of my throat, but I wouldn't want it to be over so fast, so I'd draw it out. You'd make these sounds, like you did when you were dreaming..." Dean blinked, realizing Sam was making the sounds right now. "Sam? Sam what are you doing?" He sat up, so fucking hard and heavy he thought he was going to come in his pants.

Sam's head thrashed on his pillow as he tried to remain quiet, straight white teeth bit hard into his bottom lip as he pumped his hand, faster. Sam whimpered softly, as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed, grit his teeth. Shit, Dean had asked him a question. But, he couldn't answer, not right then, not when his balls were drawing up, heat coiling low in his belly. "Oh fuck, Dean! I'm gonna come!"

"What?" The truth hit Dean. "No, don't... Don't you come Sam, not until I get there. I want to see. Don't come," he ordered in a commanding tone.

Sam Whimpered into the phone at Dean's command. _Oh God..._ He kept moving his hand, his eyes closed, picturing Dean sucking him, licking, holding his hips still.

Dean didn't bother with the stairs and was out his own window, several stories above the ground. With single minded determination, and moving faster than his sports car could ever hope to, he was on Sam's driveway and then inside his room in the span of minutes. 

Wary and keeping his distance, his gaze was laser-focused on Sam. He watched Sam's hand moving under the thin material of his boxer, and his face... so flushed, his lips parted... his breaths coming out hot and fast.

"Ok... okay Sam, come for me." He said. "Come in my mouth."

He didn't even realize Dean was in the room until he heard his voice. Sam's eyes opened to mere slits of hazel as he glanced at him, before he closed them again, his neck arched back as he bit his lip, "Holy fuck!" Sam felt the first rope of come leaving him, wetting his hand and the material of his boxers. His lips parted as he panted, soft moans escaping him until finally his hand stilled and his head lowered. 

"Ohmygod.." Sam panted out the words, licked his lips. His eyes slowly opened, looking at Dean. "What -" Sam swallowed, "What kept you?" he asked breathlessly, a small smile pulling at his lips.

"Oh my God," Dean echoed, looking into Sam's glazed eyes. He felt like he was short of breath, another new experience, and there was a burning desire to know something. He really should fight against it, should leave Sam alone right now... but he couldn't. One leaden step at a time, he moved closer and bent down. Slowly, he tugged Sam's hand out of his pants and raised it up. "Don't move."

The warning was sharp and cracked like a whip in the small room. Swallowing, Dean brought Sam's hand up to his mouth. "I want to suck on your finger," he said, so heavy with need between his legs, it was painful. Sticking his tongue out, he licked the length of Sam's middle finger, tasting him an a way he never thought he would. His lips trembled. "So good. Want you to taste what I tasted. Scoot up..." Yeah, he was playing with fire.

When Sam did, Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly leaned in, bringing his mouth inches above Sam's. Danger was thick in the air, but there wasn't a damned thing he could do to prevent himself from trying this, just once. "Sammy..." he whispered the desperate plea, before slanting his mouth across Sam's and kissing him warily, careful not to touch him in any other place.

Sam watched every move Dean made, swallowing as he gazed into Dean's eyes, his face so close, and then Dean's lips were pressed to his and Sam gasped, wanting so badly to reach up, pull Dean in closer, feel him, take more of him in. Instead Sam's fingers tangled in the bed sheets as he kissed Dean back slowly, tentatively. Sam moaned softly into Dean's mouth, deeping the kiss as much as he dared. Slowly his hand rose from the bed, going to Dean's shoulder, sliding upward toward his neck, fingers running up into Dean's hair.

This was better than Dean had thought, better than he'd imagined. Fire raced through his veins as his tongue was sheathed by the heat of Sam's mouth. He didn't penetrate too far, but explored slowly, tasting what he'd desired for so long. Then something flashed between them. Their tongues tangled, danced. Before Dean could process what was happening, everything changed. His eyes went inky black, his teeth ached, a terrible craving that could only be satisfied by Sam's blood surged through him. 

Only fear for Sam's safety gave him the strength to break-off . He hurtled backwards away from Sam like a pebble on a slingshot, his back striking the opposite wall and causing a picture to fall off it. Scrambling near the window, he gripped the back of the chair and tried to center himself... to forget how sweet Sam smelled, how exciting the sound of his blood rushing through his veins was, and how much he wanted to sink his teeth into that gentle teens throat to suck him dry... to make him put out these fires raging inside him. 

"Ah..." he banged his head against the wall. "It's not fair. It’s not fucking fair. I finally find someone and I can't even..." Eyes glittering with unshed tears, Dean turned on Sam. "Tell me to go. Tell me right now." 

Sam shook his head, "No." he said softly, "Stay. Here. With me. Tonight. Just... lay with me. That's all."

"Sam," Dean's frustration showed through. "Just fucking do this for me. Tell me." 

Sam frowned at him, "It was my fault, Dean. You told me not to move, I moved. You told me you couldn't handle..." Sam waved a hand, "this stuff and I wacked off on the phone with you. It's my fault, not yours! I'm not going to tell you to leave. If you leave, it's because you want to, not because I want it."

Dean sat and put his head down on his arms on the desk. He hadn't cried in what? Decades? And yet tears were streaming out of his eyes, tears he didn't want Sam to see. "Don't apologize. Don't... not for the best moment of my life," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

Sam sighed, as he pulled from the bed, walked over to the desk, but stayed a few steps back. He crouched down, and reached a hand out, ran it along Dean's arm. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to make this any harder for you than it already is. Damn teenage hormones, or so I'm told." Sam said with a small grin. 

"It's not you. I started it. I called. I had to see. I wanted a taste. Then I wanted _more_ ," he said bitterly. Wiping his face, he sat up. "I want to love you, but if I do that... I could end up killing you. How do I deal with that Sam? How?" He swallowed. "Don't answer that, because there is no answer. This isn't fair to you, it just fucking isn't. You might not see that, but I do."

Sam nodded, "Yep. You sure could. You could just look over at me sleeping one night and decide to rip my throat out. Yup." Sam grinned at him, shaking his head, "I don't think you would," he shrugged, "But you could. Or..." Sam quirked a brow, "What if nothing bad happened? What if it all worked out okay? What if you and I made this work?" he sighed, as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor, "I always figured I'd die on a hunt. You know, my Dad wouldn't get there in time to save my skin and some nasty would rip me apart and that would be the end of Sam Winchester. No one would know, no one would care. Just my Dad. That's it. That's all I have. But, he always said that if you die doing something you love, then death isn't so bad." Sam looked away, "The theory works for my Dad, he loves hunting. Me, not as much as he'd like me to." he looked back at Dean, "But, if something horrible were to happen with us... at least I would have died doing something I love."

"And I'd be the instrument of your death." Dean answered gruffly, but he was moved. He put his own hand on Sam's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "I don't know why you think no one would care if you died. Maybe if you gave up on hanging out with vampires and found yourself a nice girlfriend, like Kim or Stacy... erm, second thought … yeah... I'd choose death too." He finally smiled. "This is very Romeo and Juliet. I probably should write my letter in this mood."

Sam chuckled and nodded, "Well it _is_ one of my favorites. And yeah, yeah, I know, I'm such a girl." he chuckled again, as he pulled to his feet. "I guess this means you're leaving, huh?" Sam asked him, as he walked back to the bed and sat down.

"I'll wait until you're asleep." He watched Sam get back inside his bed, and managed a smile. 

* * *

Dean stood in line at the admin office, his self written excuse note in hand. Even without turning, he knew the exact moment Sam came in and stood right behind him. Turning, he whispered a warning. "Get ready for the grilling of your life. Everyone's thinking about how you were out on the same day as me."

Sam grinned, "I'm not worried. Maybe I'll just tell them we consummated our relationship and needed a day to recover." he whispered back, chuckling softly.

"Bitch." Dean's answer was automatic.

Sam grinned, "Jerk." he replied without even having to think about it.

Mike walked through, grinning at them both, raised his camera, or rather the school paper's, and snapped a picture. "Young love." he told Sam as he fluttered his lashes at him chuckling.  
Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, grabbing for the camera. "Dude! Uncool!"  
Mike laughed, dancing away from him. "Dude, everyone's talking. It's not just me! Oh and Stacy wants to talk to you." Mike snickered, "Guess she's jealous." Mike turned then hurrying away, laughing as he went, holding his camera up over his head in triumph.

"Don't worry, that film will mysteriously disappear," Dean assured him, a look of annoyance crossing his features. The line moved, and Dean was at the counter passing his note to the secretary.

"Mr. Cullen... another hiking day," she said, shaking her head and not even looking at the note.

"I went exploring, actually. Covered lots of virgin territory." Taking the slip from her, he muttered thanks and moved away to the door, waiting for Sam.

Sam was glad he hadn't been drinking when Dean said, 'virgin territory' or he would have spewed whatever beverage all over the back of Dean's head. As it was he had to bite his lip and quickly look at the floor, he was certain that he had turned a few shades redder than the average human being. 

He turned in his note, having been used to forging his Dad's signature for years, Sam had easily forged this note from his Great aunt, copying her signature from a canceled check he found laying with a stack of bills on her desk in the hall downstairs. 

After he turned in his note, Sam turned walking over to Dean and out the door with him, just as Tom walked by grinning, "I want to hear _everything_ later," he told Sam, glancing at Dean before continuing by with some girl or another. His flavor of the week apparently. 

Sam rolled his eyes and looked over at Dean, "Well, you're apparently popular. No one ever asked me about anyone else I ever skipped with in my life," he shook his head, grinning.

"Popular... don't think so. By the end of the day you'll definitely hate me." He'd read enough minds to know half of them were in the gutter, and the other half were dissatisfied for a variety of reasons, including that the Cullens were snobs so Sam must be too, or why weren't the girls at school good enough for Sam or... Dean didn't give a damn about all the reasons, but he wondered whether Sam could take it. "Might be better if you just denied it and said you were sick and at home, alone."

Sam gave Dean an intent look, "Could never hate you." he licked his lips, his gaze moving down to Dean's hand near his and his pinky lightly touched Dean's hand. "They don't worry me. Mike and Tom were just being stupid." Sam grinned, "It's fine. Don't worry about me, I mean it. I'll see ya in English." Sam told him, as his gaze met Dean's again and held for a long moment before he finally looked away and turned heading down the hall. 

* * *

The Cullens walked into the cafeteria together, walking between the parting crowd of students straight to the single table in the corner that remained unoccupied. While his brothers and sisters sat, Dean remained standing, his gaze locked for a moment with Rosalie's. "I'd stop it, if I could," was all he said.

He didn't need to breath in Sam's scent, he knew the instant the teen entered the cafeteria... felt his presence, felt the his pull.

"Dean, smile, or he'll think you plan to eat him," Alice advised, getting up to go get some food.

Sam walked into the cafeteria and looked toward the Cullen's table to find Dean standing nearby. Walking over, Sam smiled slightly at him with a sigh. "Uh, got a minute?"

They normally sat apart, it was...expected, but Sam didn't want to, not today. Dean hadn't been kidding when he said that it would be best to deny everything and say he had been home sick and alone. He'd been laughed at, told that he was being used, that Cullen's only screwed other Cullen's so there was obviously something Dean wanted from him and then he'd be dumped like yesterday's trash. The entire football team had, at one point, all bumped into him in the hall as they passed by muttering about his being 'gay' and glaring at him. He'd gotten the pity look from some. Lustful glances from other's and others still had actually told him that Tom, his supposed friend of all people, was going around spreading his own special brand of rumor. If another girl asked him how _big_ he was and that she just wanted to see 'it' he was going to scream. 

Sam ran a hand down his face, "Long day."

Dean searched his face. He didn't need to be able to read his mind to know what he meant. "Let's get you something to eat," he said with a nod, very aware of all the eyes focused on them as they got their trays. 

Sam sighed, he wasn't very hungry, but he knew...just knew, if he said that to Dean he'd get a dirty look and quite possibly the bunny would jump out the window and never return, so he nodded instead. 

A female voice, cleared her throat from behind them and Sam visibly stiffened before slowly turning to look back. 

"Um, Sam," her gaze dropped to his crotch then returned to her face. "I, uh, can I see?" 

"NO!!!" Sam yelled at her, frowning hard. Holy hell! Not another one! Motherfu-   
Sam looked around the lunchroom. When he found Tom he was going to kill him!

They walked a few paces to the line formed in front of the buffet. "What does she mean 'ten inches,'" Dean asked quietly, watching Sam with the same quiet stillness of a cat, right before it pounced.

Sam looked back at Dean with a huff. He shook his head, "My _friend_ , Tom has spread the rumor that I have a ten inch dick. That it takes ten inches to satisfy a Cullen. Now all the damn girls wanna see it!"

"And some of the boys." Closing his eyes for a moment, Dean moved up the line then reached for a silver foil wrapped burger which he wouldn't eat. 

Sam sighed, closed his eyes. "They do?" he whined, opening his eyes as he looked over at Dean, "Who? Which ones? So I can steer clear. Bad enough having girls almost literally chase you into the bathroom." he sighed.

"Me." Giving a shaky laugh, Dean insisted, "Load your tray, you're going to need the energy."

Sam smirked, chuckled softly, "Oh." he licked his lips, reaching for one of the pre-made salads. "Well, I promise not to run from _you_ then." Sam glanced over at him, "I've got bad news for ya though," he said, shaking his head. “It ain't ten inches. I mean, I don't keep a ruler by the bed or anything, but I really don't think that it's..." Sam shrugged, "yeah, you know."

"I'm pretty sure Cullens don't need ten inch dicks, but I wouldn't ask," he said, even though every Cullen in the room was now also looking at them, listening. "I'll get you a ruler if you want... just for accurate reporting."

Sam looked at him, a slow smile spreading across his face before he laughed out right. He shook his head, "No, that's quite alright. Thanks just the same. If... when the time comes, you like it, that's all that's necessary." Sam looked at him, sobering, his smile slowly fading, as he licked his lips, "Unless _you_ want to measure it for me."

"I... yeah, I would like that, but I wouldn't stop at measuring. And you... just keep pushing the envelope." His eyes went dark for a moment as he thought of touching Sam, recalled how he'd tasted. Licking his lips, he put some distance between them. "You're doing that thing again, with your mouth. Maybe you've found a new way to kill a... one of us," he muttered, semi-grumpily, walking past the drinks.

Sam raised a brow at him, "With my mouth...?" he huffed, shaking his head as he grabbed an apple and walked away from the food to get a drink. "Dude, you need to loosen up." Sam told him, "A good orgasm would help you," he chuckled softly, before holding up his hands as he rested his tray on the counter. "I never said _I_ had to give it to you."

"Keep talking and you just might." Waiting for Sam to get his drink, he found them a table, near the Cullens. Feeling Sam's questioning glance, he shrugged. "You're getting too comfortable with vampires. Cut it out." From a distance, he could practically feel Jasper's relief.

Sam quirked a brow, "Too comfortable?" he huffed and shook his head, "That's not what you were saying yesterday," he muttered, looking down at his tray with a smirk. Glancing up at Dean, Sam shrugged, "I'm 'comfortable' with a lot of things. Things most people would run screaming from." he grinned, "I could run... but only if you promise to chase me," he popped a grape into his mouth.

"That would be a one-second chase." Dean wanted to be annoyed or mad at Sam for the casual way he was accepting all this, and also for pushing himself further into danger as if he had no clue. But he couldn't, not right now... because right now he was having an epiphany. The very things that annoyed him about Sam were what made him love him. He let out a deep breath. "Oh man, I was about to tell you what comes next. This... this phone sex or role play thing, is it addictive. Or maybe it’s me, finding another fucking addiction." 

Sam chuckled, his eyes danced with mischief as he looked at Dean. "While I would definitely like that, I'd rather not put on a show for the entire school. Let's save it for later." Sam winked at him, grinning as he reached for his glass of punch. 

Tom walked up behind Sam, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling Sam backward slightly as he bent down, grinning. "How's my favorite couple doing?" Tom asked him, only to have Sam reach back and grab Tom in a vice-like grip, "I oughta kick your ass." Sam told him. 

Tom laughed, "Dude! I made you a legend and hey, I get to console all those girls you say no to. It's a win, win situation!" Tom pulled away, smacking Sam in the back of the head, "You can thank me later!" he called out as he walked out of the cafeteria. 

Sam watched him go glaring, before looking back at Dean with a huff, "My friends," he shook his head.

"Yeah. And everyone else... their thoughts are driving me crazy today." Dean started to point look at students. "She wants you. That one wants you to do everything you did with Stacy," his gaze darkened. "That one would like to draw you naked and then sit... Sonovabitch," he dragged his gaze away and looked into Sam's eyes. "I've never been jealous before. Say something... distract me, now..."

Sam had leaned slightly closer looking at each person Dean pointed out, but now, he was looking at Dean, his eyes meeting Dean's. Jealous? Really? Sam licked his lips and said the first thing that came to his mind. "I want you."

"I know that already. Something else... something that won't make me drag either you or one of them out of here." Dean's fingers bit into the sides of his chair, his fingernails cutting into the soft wood. "What... what are your parents like? What does your mother think about your father going off... why does she let you live here?"

Sam licked his lips, his eyes traveling over Dean's form, seeing the battle he was having. "Uh, Dad's military," he shrugged, "Was a marine. Hunts now, you know that. My Mom," Sam tore his gaze away from Dean, looking at his tray, finger of one hand ran through the dressing on his salad, "Mom's dead," he told him softly. Slowly, Sam looked up at Dean, his gaze soft, full of emotion.

Hyper focused now on Sam's past, some of Dean's tension eased. "I'm sorry." He wanted to hold him then, pull him into his arms, but this wasn't the place, and he wasn't calm enough to risk it anyway. "I wish I could read your mind and not ask." Course he couldn't stand not knowing, especially anything about Sam. "What happened? How did you lose her?"

Sam sighed, looked back down at his food, frowned thoughtfully before clearing his throat, "Um, she died in my nursery. I was six months old." Sam pulled his finger out of the dressing and licked it, before wiping it on his napkin and sitting back with a sigh. "It's why Dad and I hunt now. I know he blames me." Sam shook his head, staring off into nothingness.

Pain emanated from Sam, but there was nothing Dean could do about this. "I don't understand. How did she die... why would he blame you?" It didn't make sense, then again, it wasn't something they should be talking about in a crowd like this. Dean knew that, but he couldn't fucking stop the questions that kept welling up. "You were just a baby." 

Sam smirked slightly, but there was no merriment in it. His gaze remained on some point off in the distance. After a moment Sam blinked and looked back at Dean with a sigh, frowning, "My Dad told me," he licked his lips and when he spoke again, his voice was haunted, "I went into your nursery, your mother was on the ceiling, blood dripping from her stomach. There was a fire, I grabbed you and ran out of the house." Sam blinked, smirked slightly, again it held no merriment, "A demon killed my mother," he told Dean, hazel eyes locked with green/gold. "And he blames me as it apparently, because it was after me."

Visualizing the scene, Dean destroyed the burger on his tray. "You were a baby. It's not your fault," he reiterated. "If he blames you, he's a..." he just restrained himself from calling John Winchester a fucking idiot. "Was he... does he mistreat you?" His features hardened as his protective instincts kicked in.

Sam grinned, "You mean does he beat the dog snot out of me?" Sam asked him, shaking his head, "No. My Dad's pretty awesome." he shrugged, "We argue about... well, everything. He thinks I need to hunt, to be the best hunter. That I should _want_ to do it because of mom." Sam sighed, "But, it's not all that important to me. I dunno, it's his thing, his obsession. Not mine. But, I do it, because it's expected. Because it's what we do, it's what's right." he shook his head, "Dad has never _said_ he blames me, but I can tell. The way he looks at me sometimes when he thinks I don't notice... like he's scared of me."

"Sounds like regular father son arguments, except the usual family business isn't hunting." He pushed the salad toward Sam, urging him to eat. "Maybe it’s you, blaming yourself. Just think about it, okay? Cause I haven't met your dad, and I don't have a clue." 

Sam quirked a brow at Dean as he pressed his lips together, sighed softly and finally nodded. He didn't think so, but he didn't argue. Sure, he blamed himself, but... he wasn't so sure that was the whole story.

The bell rang for fifth period.

"Speaking of dads... mine wants to meet you after school." Dean put his palm out. "Give me your keys. I'm going to drop your car off at your place."

Sam looked at him, lips parted, "My keys?" Sam frowned, slowly reaching into his pocket he pulled them out, held them back, "Don't hurt my car," he told Dean. "I mean it. I'll kick-" Sam stopped knowing Dean would only laugh at the idea of him kicking his ass, quirked a brow, "Well, I'll do something nasty to you if you do," he told him, eyes narrowed. Sam smirked, "Meet your Dad? When's the wedding?"

"Shut up, it's bad enough Carlisle's making me bring you. I told him I wouldn't bring you to the house." Closing the subject, he went back to the car issue. "You should just let me buy you a new car, then we wouldn't be having this argument." Dean paused, "what kind of nasty thing would you do to me?"

Sam looked at him, a wounded look on his face. "Aww, am I your dirty little secret?" he teased him before pulling to his feet and shaking his head, grinning. He leaned in close to Dean's ear, as he placed the key's in Dean's hand, "Things that would make you loosen up a whole lot." he whispered, before pulling back and walking past him toward the door. "Gotta go! See ya after school."

"What kinds of things? Sam? Sam! Dammit," he muttered the rest under his breath then moved with preternatural speed to the parking lot. He'd be maybe five minutes late to class, but they'd get to ride together to the hospital, which suited him fine.

* * *

Sam walked out of the school, glad to have the longest school day on record over with. After lunch he had had to give a presentation and he was sure every damn person had been staring at his crotch and not his face. Fuckin' Tom. 

Walking toward Dean, Sam couldn't help the slow grin that pulled at his lips, making his dimples show. "Hey!" Sam greeted, stepping up to him, "Did you figure it out?" Sam asked him, quirking a brow. "What I would do to you?" he glanced around the parking lot, then looked back at Dean, "I could start to show you now and really give them all something to talk about tonight." Sam told him as he waggled his eyebrows, chuckling.

"Hmph." Dean leaned in and whispered near Sam's ear. "What did you call me before? Prick-tease." Pulling away, he walked around the shiny black car and got inside, grinning. That display was as good as any to start the tongues wagging again.

Sam huffed and shook his head before turning toward the car, pulling open the passenger door. "I am _so_ not a prick tease, dude," he told Dean as he folded his long frame into the car and closed the door. "See, to _be_ a prick tease you have to _not_ be willing to do the things you say. _I_ however am more than willing." 

Dean laughed. "Maybe. Or maybe if you knew I'd take you up you'd be more cautious." Throwing the car in reverse, he timed it just right so he didn't have to wait at all in the lot, veering around a too-slow car, and heading onto the street. "Did you know you grew from ten inches to twelve in the shower, after P.E. class? At least that's what I hear..." 

Sam eyed Dean and shook his head, then laughed outright. "No way! After P.E.? Who the hell was lookin'? And I _so_ want to borrow that ruler!" he shook his head, "So now my cock is almost as big as my feet. Nice. Watch, tomorrow it'll be _as_ big." Sam looked down at his feet and nodded, "Thirteen and a half." he looked back at Dean, "I'll Probably have people climbing up to my room window." he chuckled and shook his head. "Well, if nothing else, it's funny."

"Only one person gets to climb into your room." Dean slid a warning look to Sam. He knew Sam was joking, but he also couldn't help the feelings that stirred up in him at the thought of it being true. He put his hand on Sam's thigh, searching within himself to make sure he was under control, before squeezing possessively. "Just me, Sam."

Sam's laughter died away, his gaze slowly dropping to Dean's hand on his thigh. Sam placed his hand over Dean's before looking back at him, nodding. "Only you." he agreed softly. Sam tore his gaze from Dean a slight chuckle working out of him, "And this is the time when I would lean over and kiss you." he smiled at Dean, "Maybe long distance kissing would be better?" he asked quirking a brow.

"You can kiss me," he answered thickly. "I'll concentrate on driving. No... no quick moves," he reminded Sam, changing gears to speed up the car.

Sam slowly exhaled as he nodded, "I dunno how great a testament that is to how you think I kiss, that you'll concentrate on driving, but, okay." he mumbled, as he adjusted the way he was sitting, moved slightly closer, bracing a hand on the side of the back of Dean's seat before slowly leaning toward him, making sure Dean always had at least a partial view of the road. Sam closed his eyes, ran his tongue over Dean's bottom lip slowly, before pressing his lips against Dean's gently, mouth opening as his tongue darted out, slowly pressing into the corner of Dean's mouth, the tip of his tongue and running along the roof of Dean's mouth, before delving deeper. Slowly, he mapped out Dean’s mouth, tangling Dean's tongue with his own. Sam took in a deep breath through his nose as he moved closer, his free hand cupping the side of Dean's face as he moaned softly into his mouth.

Dean's knuckles were white against the steering wheel as he used every shred of control not to react the way his instincts screamed for him to. Sam's tongue was both soft and firm in his mouth, stroking him, making his mouth burn, making him ache for more... to put his arms around Sam, to kiss him back hard... Dean heard a sound, and it was his own moan in response to Sam's. He dared to move his tongue once, to stroke Sam's, and knew they should stop... but he couldn't fucking bring himself to say it. Instead, he used all of his senses to drive straight even in those seconds Sam blocked his view.

Sam's hand pulled away from Dean's face as he reached back, unfastened his seat belt, then returned to Dean's face, slid down, cupping the side of his neck as he continued to kiss him, pulling back just slightly, only to delve deep again. Sam's breathing kicked up a notch as he kissed Dean, ran his tongue over every area of his mouth, sucked Dean's tongue into his own mouth he moaned before moving his mouth on Dean's tongue.

The slick penetration of his mouth alone had been driving Dean to the very edge, but when Sam started to suck his tongue... like he was giving it a blow job, he nearly lost it. Between the sensations of having his tongue sheathed and squeezed and the sound of Sam's heart, his blood rushing, his scent washing over him, Dean was in heaven and in hell. His temples pounded as he struggled against the need to pounce on Sam, to push him back on the chair, to kiss him, to fuse their groins together as he drank from him. An animalistic growl broke from Dean, and he jerked away. "Enough!"

He panted, eyes straight ahead, focused on the hospital ahead. He was not going to lose it... he wasn't. His jaw ached from how tightly he was gritting it, but he didn't say a thing.

Sam gazed at Dean with wide eyes, wiped his mouth with the back of a hand as he slowly sat back in the seat. "Sorry." he muttered softly, "Guess I got carried away." Sam told him, before tearing his gaze away to look out the window as he licked his lips. Still tasting Dean there. Sam closed his eyes, sighing softly, before opening them again and clearing his throat. 

"Me too. I guess my concentration on driving isn't that good." Dean was silent for a moment as he pulled into the parking lot. "Are you... angry?"

Sam looked over at him, shook his head. "N-No. Why would I be angry? I went too far." he swallowed, licked his lips, "Are you angry with me?"

"No. Just... scared and... this isn't fair to you." Throwing the car into park, he looked at Sam. "I know you said you could die anytime from hunting. How about dying from waiting? What if we can never..." he gestured. Yeah, they'd come a long way. He had controlled himself much better than he thought possible... than would have been possible the first time Sam walked into his life. But it didn't necessarily mean they could ever go all the way.

Sam sighed and shook his head, a soft smile pulling at his lips, "Then I'll die from the sweetest torture." he told Dean, as he reached over, taking his hand in his and squeezing. "We just have to find... alternative means..." Sam winked, smirking, "It can be done." he said, reaching for the door handle, and nodding toward the hospital, "Now come on, I don't want to make a bad impression on your Dad. I want him to like me." Sam told him, grinning.

"Oh, just knowing you kissed me and lived... that'll make him love you." Stepping out of the car, he looked at stunned Sam across its roof. "One sniff, he'll know you were all over me. Don't worry, he's a doc... he's very clinical about these things." Winking, he slammed the door shut and locked the doors.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)  
>  Art by shazamy

Sam stood watching Dean, mouth still open, appalled that Dean's _Dad_ was going to know he had just about molested his son. Holy shit! And Dean always worried about him being eaten... his father would probably eat him. He could hear it now, 'What the hell were you doing to my son?!?' Oh, yeah, lovely. Wonderful. Great. And Dean thought it was funny. _Funny!_

Sam followed Dean to the hospital doors with a groan. "He's gonna think I'm a pervert is what he's gonna think." Sam muttered, shaking his head. "And I so wanted to make a good impression. I wasn't thinking," he sighed and looked at Dean, "Maybe you could just... stand down wind?" Sam asked him quirking a brow and grinning as he tried to make a joke out of his embarrassment.

"Sure, I'll stand wherever you want. Oh... and he probably heard you just now, that's him over there," Dean nodded toward the young doctor who was even paler than himself, standing at the reception desk, with his head turned toward them, looking at Sam as if he was assessing him. 

Sam looked in the direction Dean indicated, sure that Dean _had to_ be joking, only to look back at Dean with wide eyes before gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes. "You could have warned me!" Sam hissed quietly.

Laughing, Dean merely clapped him on the back and made him walk faster.

Dr. Cullen moved away from the desk and met the boys half way, putting his hand out. "Carlisle Cullen, it's nice to finally meet you Sam. I had to see who it is that has turned my son's world upside down."

Dean glared at his dad and didn't drop his hand away from Sam’s back.

Sam took Carlisle Cullen's hand in a firm grip, shaking it. "Very nice to meet you, sir." Sam told him, glancing at Dean with a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "You have a wonderful son, Mr. Cullen," Sam told him, again glancing at Dean, trying not to look too much like a love sick idiot or worse.

"It's Doctor," he corrected gently, "and let's not give Dean a big head."

"Sam knows I have a big--" Dean licked his lip and said nothing.

Carlisle gave a mild cough. "You look... sturdier than Bella, which is a good thing because Dean is rougher than Edward. How do you like it here in Forks?"

After quickly correcting his slip up, Sam quirked a brow and looked over at Dean. "Bella? Edward?" Sam looked down, mumbling under his breath, "I hope I look sturdier than a Bella." He head snapped up a second later to looked back at Dean, "What does he mean, you're rougher than Edward? Who's Edward?" The he realized Dr. Cullen was waiting on an answer, and nodded, "I hated Forks at first, but I've found it worth more than I first thought. It seems to hide diamonds among its clouds." 

"Sam is a danger magnet... he sees diamonds where he should see sharks teeth."

Carlisle ignored Dean. "Edward and Dean are my youngest. They'd be twins if... if things worked that way for us." He locked gazed with Sam, trying to see the affect of his words on the young man. "I was worried about both of them, never having feelings of the romantic sort."

Dean cleared his throat. "Dad..."

"Or sexual."

"Dad."

"I mean in a more or less committed way."

"Dad."

Sam glanced at Dean before looking back at Dr. Cullen, "I see. Um, well," he shifted his weight nervously, "I, uh," Sam started to chuckle, "Wow, this is much easier to do when the father can't tell stuff. This would be the place where I assure you that I had only pure intentions toward your son, but, uh..." he looked at Dean, blushing and pressed his lips together grinning.

"We were all teenagers once," Dr. Cullen said, his face serious. "Be careful. Both of you. For all our sakes." He heard his name called on the intercom. "Esme was right. I can see how you've brought humor into Dean's life. He's turning into quite the joker these days," he gave a nod of approval.

Sam nodded, face serious as he listened to Dr. Cullen's warning. Sam shook his head, "I'd never let anything happen that would put Dean or your family in danger. Dean knows that." He grinned then, turning to Dean, "A joker now, huh? Aw, am I rubbing off on you?" 

"I'll show you rubbing off."

Dr. Cullen smiled, and put his hand out again. "Don't be a stranger. I have to..." His name was called again. "Give your aunt my regards." With that, he was gone.

Sam chuckled at Dean's words, quickly shaking Dr. Cullen's hand, "it was nice to meet you, sir." he chuckled as he looked back at Dean whispering, "Dean was a vampire stuuuud." Still laughing, he hurried for the door.

Dean's hand snaked out and grabbed Sam's arm in an iron grasp. "He heard that too, you know?" Wearing his own smug smile, he let go and opened the door. "And just when did you turn into a gentlemen? All those 'sirs'... I think Carlisle ate them up."

Sam shrugged and looked over at Dean still grinning, "I got my own moves, stud man. I know how to charm the 'rents." Sam told him nodding.

"Yeah, you've got them eating out of your hands." Dean scrubbed his face. "If I slip up with you, I'm sure they'll kill me" He was only half joking as they made it to the car and got in. He put his head back against the headrest and turned to look at Sam. "You know, you need to introduce me to your great aunt some time. I mean if I'm your vampire boyfriend." A part of him still couldn't believe how easily that tripped off his tongue. 

Sam looked back at him nodding, "Yeah, I suppose you're right." He sighed, "I so don't want you to meet her. I mean, she's alright and all, but oh my god, either she'll question the life out of you, or make you eat half the kitchen, I swear!" Sam shook his head, "I think I've gained ten pounds!" 

He slumped down in the seat, grinning as he looked at Dean, "Yeah, she's usually not home till late and leaves early so might have to be on a weekend." He looked away thoughtfully, staring at the dashboard, "I wouldn't normally ask this, cause it's none of my business really, but you _are_ a vampire and all," Sam looked back at Dean, "So, um, just how many anyway?"

"I don't think seven is late, Sam." He wondered why the thought of his meeting Cathleen made Sam squirm, when he hadn't seemed that nervous about meeting Carlisle. Unless it was the same sex thing, but no... he'd said Cathleen was now making the rounds looking for a boyfriend for him. Frowning, he asked. "How many what?" 

Sam licked his lips frowning, "Uh, never mind." he nodded, "Yeah, seven's not too late, she sometimes goes to do other stuff though. But hey, if you say she'll be home at seven, who am I to argue. I can't read minds," he smirked. "Come over one night, when she'll be home, and I'll introduce you... just uh, don't, I dunno, don't let her know anything... intimate." Sam blushed slightly, turning his head to look back out the window. "If she tells my Dad and he looks you up..." Sam shook his head.

One day his dad would find out. It wasn't an 'if' it was a 'when'... if they were together, but Dean didn't say anything. His curious mind wouldn't let him drop the other topic though. "Never mind what, Sam? You know I'll tell you anything... ask you anything," he added. 

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, well..." he shook his head, "It's not important right now. One day..." Sam sighed, "I'll worry about it then."

"Sam." Dean gave him a piercing look. "You know it's gonna drive me crazy not knowing. Fucking spit it out."

Sam looked at Dean, narrowing his eyes. "Gosh!" he huffed, "I was just gonna ask you how many vampire's you'd been with, cause, dude," Sam shook his head, "I don't think I'm gonna be near as good as a vampire," Sam told him with a shrug. "You might be disappointed. Just wanted an idea what I was up against."

This time Dean stared blankly at him. "What do you mean? As good at what?" Dammit, if only he could get inside Sam's head and figure out what was worrying him now. 

Sam looked at Dean, lips parted in shocked annoyance. "What? You want me to draw you a picture!? Put on a slide show!? Hand puppets!? Sex Dean! Sex! How many vampires you've screwed!" Sam ran a hand over his face, "Christ," he muttered softly, "Your dad said that you hadn't had a committed relationship...." he narrowed his eyes at him, "Why the hell do you think I was calling you a stud!?"

"I thought you were just... I dunno, teasing me, or you really liked the kiss," he shrugged, "I know I did." He was silent for a moment. "Ah... would it be a strike ‘for me’ or ‘against me,’ if I said ‘none’?" Nervous now, he licked his lips. 

Sam sighed, looking down. He looked up at Dean's answer, narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Never mind." Dean looked away and started the car.

Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's arm. "No. Wait a minute!" he licked his lips, "What do you mean, none? You're kidding, right?"

Dean shook his head from side to side, then looked over. "I told you that you were my first... everything." A vulnerable light entered his eyes. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Pressing his lips together, he searched Sam's face for signs of his thoughts. 

Sam turned in his seat, as he looked at Dean, a soft smile pulling at his lips before he chuckled softly, muttering, "Wow." Licking his lips, Sam leaned closer as slightly slanted hazel eyes gazed into green/gold brilliance. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he told him softly, before leaning in further, eyes closing. 

Softly he pressed his lips to Dean's his tongue running along the seam of Dean's lips, then darting just inside to lick at the roof of Dean's mouth and up the back of his front teeth as Sam slowly pulled his tongue back, broke the kiss slowly, pulling away. Lashes fluttered as he opened his eyes and looked at Dean with a smile. "Still in one piece," he whispered.

Dean hadn't moved, but he instantly missed the slide of Sam's tongue against his when he retreated. He wished Sam had sucked on his tongue again, that they'd shared a deep kiss, but this was better, right? He hadn't gone all dark and needy, hadn't scared or pushed Sam away. Yeah, better. He nodded. "One piece. I was afraid you were going to cut your tongue," he admitted, having felt Sam caress the back of his fangs. "Sam, what do you mean 'wow'?" I gotta know. Tell me." 

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "You know, you never have to worry about us going too far too soon. You're so full of questions, you'd distract me from it anyway." Sighing, he leaned back in his seat. "What do I mean?" he quirked a brow, "Well, I mean, look at you! What, are vampire women blind!?" Sam shook his head, "It's just hard to believe, I mean, I understand the human thing, though I would have thought that before you were changed...." Sam licked his lips, nibbling on the bottom one as he eyed Dean and shrugged, "It just amazes me, that's all. I mean, how old are you anyway? I've only been with one and people look at me like I'm nuts. How is it that you just never...? You know what, don't tell me, I don't wanna know." Sam told him, shaking his head again. 

Looking out the window, Sam frowned thoughtfully, "Of course, this puts more pressure on me to make sure it's really friggin good if we ever do..." he glanced at Dean, "ya know." He shrugged, "But then again, if I suck, who ya gonna compare it to?" he snickered, shaking his head again. "See? Wow."

Dean gave a deep laugh at the contrast between them. If he had that many questions, there was no way he'd allow them to rumble around in his head. He'd make sure he got answers to every one of them, and yet Sam didn't _have to_ know all the answers. That had to be nice. "I watch porn. A lot of it. I'd know." Smirking, he reversed and drove them out of the lot at breakneck speed. "Seatbelt. And I'm taking you to dinner, your stomach rumbled. You wanna call that Great aunt of yours and tell her you're on a date?"

Sam frowned at him. "Porn? My boyfriend is a porn watching vampire." Sam laughed, "Only me, man. Could only happen to me." He frowned again, "My stomach is fine. I -" he sighed, "Fine, I'll eat. Think I should call her? She kinda lets me do what I want. Mm, maybe." Sam mumbled as he pulled out his cell.

* * *

The restaurant was packed, though Dean managed to have the hostess fit them in, and give them one of the more private tables in the corner. He let Sam order, then asked only for a glass of water, explaining he'd eaten. When the waitress asked if he might like some dessert, it didn't take a mind reader to know what she was really offering. Dean waved her off, and grinned. "You look pissed off. You know she has no idea we're together that way."

Sam huffed, shrugging, "Oh you can be jealous, but I can't?"

"Oh, no... go right ahead, I'm enjoying it. You have no idea how cute you are when you're angry. Like a spitting kitten about to show its claws. Are you gonna hiss at her?" Dean played with his iced water. "Maybe have a cat fight over me?" 

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, tilting his head, "No, I just thought that maybe I'd have my picture drawn for you, naked." Sam gave him a pointed look, quirking a brow.

"Bitch." Dean's answer was automatic as he recalled the thoughts he'd read in the cafeteria. 

Sam huffed, "Jerk."

When the waitress came back with Sam's salad, Dean made very sure to pull away from her and not allow her to touch him, especially when he knew she was trying to 'accidentally' brush against him. His gaze met Sam's and bronze clashed with hazel, until she left. "Sam, I've gone all these years without it, and now you think I'm gonna suddenly going to go after any chick that shakes her ass at me?" 

Sam frowned at him, "I didn't say that." he licked his lips, looked down, placing his napkin in his lap, before reaching for his fork. He shrugged then, "Jealousy doesn't have to make sense." Looking up at Dean, Sam looked him in the eye, "You really thought I'd go and sleep around with every girl at school?"

"I don't know, I can't read your mind." He knew what Sam meant, he'd been pissed off that all those girls were having those thoughts, not because he'd thought Sam would give any of them what they wanted. "Plus with thirteen inches, who could resist if you wanted that?" 

Sam looked at Dean and shook his head, "You don't know? What the hell kind of answer is that? You don't know," he huffed, shaking his head, "You know what?" Sam grit his teeth together, "Just... nevermind." he stabbed his salad a lot harder than necessary, "And last count it was twelve as far as I heard, or did it magically grow again!?"

"You said something about bigger than your foot." Seeing that Sam was getting too wound up, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I wrote Romeo's letter last night, while you were sleeping. Do you... do you want to read it to me?"

Sam looked up at him, chewing on a bite of salad, eyes narrowed. "I said _they_ would wind up saying it was bigger than my foot," he shook his head, "You're gonna be _so_ disappointed." he mumbled, reaching for the letter. "Me read it?" he asked him. "If...if you want me to, I guess... shouldn't you read it?"

"No, I don't wanna hear the sound of my own voice. Besides, you're much better at poetry and... I think the letter could use some help." .  
Sam quirked a brow as he opened the letter and tore his gaze away from Dean to look down at it. Clearing his throat he started to read, "Every night, every moment that we are apart, I dream of making love to you, of tasting your lips, of crushing your soft frame under me. Your taste entices me, makes me burn for more. Would that my tongue could reside in your mouth, tangling, moving against your tongue, forever stroking, giving and taking." Sam glanced up at Dean before continuing, "If I pulled away, it would be only to taste your limbs. To tease your palms with wet kisses, to hear your sighs and impatient demands. Thou hast a temper that hides behind that angelic face, and thou could use some temperance, and yet... I would never want you to lose that fire within." Sam smiled, glancing up again, blowing air out through his lips slowly as he sat back. 

"I would move my mouth over you, down thy chest... press kisses into your stomach. You would grow warm, nay hot under my mouth... quiver." Sam stopped reading, licked his lips and fidgeted in his chair, clearing his throat again. "I would feel your hands in my hair, forcing me to move where you want me most... between your legs. I would make you wait, loving the way your body thrashed and the scent of your need. Your demands would make me dizzy with desire, for you are outspoken... you wouldst tell me exactly what you wished." Sam’s breath caught in his throat, one of his hands fell onto the table with a thud, making dishes and glasses clatter before he coughed into his fist and looked around the room, shifting in his chair, trying to hide his body's reactions. 

"I’d finally place my mouth on your swollen center, lick thee... take thee slowly at first, then harder and faster, as fast as they beating heart. My name would fall from your lips, again and again, until I had you trembling and shouting your pleasure." Sam swallowed hard, his free hand moving to his lap to try and adjust himself better under the table cloth as he kept his gaze on the paper nodding. He reached for his glass then, chugging it down, before he set the glass back on the table. "It's... it's..." Sam nodded, finally looking up at Dean. "Juliet's a screamer, huh?"

"It's a good thing your great aunt is a deep sleeper, I mean her chaperone. You don't like it?" He reached for the paper. 

"My..." Sam looked at Dean mouth hanging open, "I _do not_ scream," he hissed, looking around them to be sure no one overheard. "And neither does Juliet. She's just... a tad vocal." Sam shrugged, "She knows that. She's been told." 

Sam frowned at Dean as he reached for the paper, "You've been watching too much porn. It's good. Damn good. But if you think the teacher's going to be in the closet over mine, yours is going to set her on fire." Sam shook his head, "We can't turn this in. No way. First, the fire alarm, and then the rumors," he chuckled.

"Never know, she might like a little heat in her reading." Tugging it out of Sam's hand, he started to fold it back to tear. "Alright, I'll try again tonight." Though his face was dead serious, he'd never written the letter for public consumption in the first place. His intended audience's response pleased him, and that was all that mattered. 

"No!" Sam nearly yelled the word, holding his hand out, eyes wide. He lowered his voice, "Don't tear it. I'll - I'll keep it... to refer back to... for later."

"You know I'm not really a poet, and you're right... it's porn." He dropped it into Sam's hand. "But he is in love with Juliet and he'd die for her. I'll figure out how to make that come across next time." Smiling, he was about to point out Sam hadn't eaten his salad, when the waitress came back and took it away, replacing it with his meal. 

Sam nodded to Dean, nearly sighing in relief when he gave him the letter. Sam quickly stuck it in his pocket, glancing up as the waitress came. He looked over at Dean as she walked away, "When we finish here, can you wait a few minutes while I run into the electronics store across the street? I wanna pick up something."

"What?" Dean cocked his head. "Don't you want me to come with you?" He drummed his fingers on the table. "You know it'll drive me crazy..."

Sam smirked at him and looked down at his food with a shrug. "You'll survive, because no, you can't go. It's a surprise. I have to talk to Alice tomorrow," he shrugged, still grinning. "But, yeah, a surprise."

"Sam, I hate surprises." When Sam didn't relent, he added. "I could follow you, you'd never know."

Sam quirked a brow, nodding. "Yeah, you could. But then, I'd never forgive you." he said as he took a bite of his chicken with a smirk.

Having no answer, Dean slouched back in his chair and watched as Sam finally ate a full meal. They chatted some more about the project, and Dean grilled Sam some more about growing up in different cities. A part of him felt sorry for Sam, but another part of him knew Sam wouldn't be the way he was now but for that childhood. Dean paid for the meal, and ordered a coffee that would go to waste, while Sam left on his secret mission.

The urge to follow him was strong. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said 'not knowing' was torture. His mind seemed to dwell on that type of thing like he was obsessed with it. Looking out the window, he tried to blank out his mind. 

It worked for a while, and then he was sucked into a day dream...

The newly fallen snow was six feet deep. The air was cold, everywhere but over the hot spring. It was Dean's hot spring, a place no one came to. The vampire was naked, sitting on a boulder with his chest and shoulders above the water, watching the steam rise around him. A sound had his eyes shifting toward the trees.

Sam trudged through the snow. Arms wrapped around himself for warmth, warmth even his thick brown jacket wasn't providing. Snow crunched under his booted feet as he walked forward. Coming to the edge of the forest, he saw him there. Sitting in the water, in the middle of the winter setting. "Dean?"

Dean's eyes narrowed to slits as his personal addiction approached. How many times had he warned him away? "Go home. This land belongs to my family. You weren't invited." As harsh as the words were, Dean somehow knew he didn't have a prayer of getting rid of him that easily. 

Sam huffed, as he unzipped his jacket and pulled it off. "Funny, I don't see your name on this place. Just like I didn't see it on that parking spot or," Sam tilted his head, "what else have you randomly claimed as your own?" Sam asked him, before pulling his hoodie up over his head and dropping it to the ground with his jacket. He now stood bare chested as he gazed at Dean, his hands going to the fastenings of his jeans as he toed off his boots.

"This spring is mine. Everything in it is mine... to do with what I will," Dean ground out his warning, his eyes hard and unrelenting even as he drank in the sight of Sam's chiseled chest gleaming under the moonlight. His gaze flicked to Sam's hand on his zipper, and back up to his eyes. "I mean it, Sam."

Sam shook his head, "You don't scare me, Dean." he told him as he unzipped his jeans, pushing them down and stepping out of them. He pulled off his socks next, then his hands rose, thumbs tucked in the waistband of his boxers. He grinned at Dean, "You gonna watch?"

Dean stared unblinkingly at him. "You get in here and you're mine. You live or die if I say, you do as I say. Last chance... if you were smart, you'd run." 

Sam continued grinning as he pulled off his boxers and stepped forward into the water. "You won't hurt me, Dean." Sam told him confidently.

Dean hissed out a breath, both irked by Sam's irreverence and mesmerized by the sight of his naked body... something he'd thought about, so often. One moment he was sitting as still as a statue and the next he moved so fast that no one could track his motions, ending up right in Sam's face. "Maybe. Maybe not." Snaking his arms out, he gripped Sam's hips and dragged him up against his frame, fusing their lower bodies together. He only just bit back a groan as their bodies collided. "You think this is fun? Exciting? You think it's a sport, playing with a vampire?" he demanded, his fingers biting into Sam.

Sam gasped and bit his lip as Dean tugged him up against his body. His arms loosely circled around Dean, his hands on his back. "I think _you_ excite me," he told him softly. He shook his head, "I'm not playing with you."

"What if I'm playing with you. What if I'm going to fuck your brains out and suck you dry of blood, and not necessarily in that order. What if, Sam?" In two strides, he had Sam's back up against a boulder, trapped. "Is that exciting?" He wanted Sam to see, to know he was dangerous, to admit it.   
Sam gasped softly as his back hit the boulder, he shook his head, "You won't hurt me. You can fuck me if you want to, but you won't hurt me."

"Are you sure?" Dean aggressively moved his body against Sam's, growing harder with each thrust. "You feel how much I need you? What if I can't stop? What if I fuck you so hard there's nothing left... got to stop this Sam... got to." Even as the words broke out of him, Dean covered Sam's mouth with his in a hard, relentless kiss. It was meant to punish, to show Sam his place, and to instill some fear in him. The intended lesson misfired as Dean found himself swept away by desires he couldn't control. 

Sam's breath hitched as Dean thrust against him, his own dick responding quickly. "Need you too." He shook his head, "you won't. I know you won't, Dean. I believe in you." Sam told him before Dean's mouth covered his, Sam moaning deep in his throat as Dean kissed him. 

"Suck my tongue... like in the car," Dean demanded, stabbing his tongue into Sam's mouth and grinding his hips harder against Sam's.

Sam did as Dean told him, taking his tongue into his mouth and sucking, moving his mouth on Dean as if he were doing it to Dean's cock and not his tongue. His hips ground against Dean as his arms tightened around him.

Dean groaned as blinding waves of heat washed over him. He'd never gone so far as to imagine what this would feel like, and he hadn't been prepared for its intensity. He held still for as long as he could as Sam worked his tongue the way he'd asked him to. His imagination was on overdrive as he thought about Sam's mouth on his cock instead of on his tongue.

Breaking the kiss, Dean ran his mouth down Sam's throat, to his chest. His water slicked skin was soft like silk under Dean's lips. He licked, and scraped his razor sharp teeth over Sam, holding him tight so he couldn't jerk away even as thin streaks of scarlet appeared. An animalistic growl broke from the back of Dean's throat as he licked Sam's skin clean and felt himself get pulled into a web of desire and blood lust. 

Sam's head tilted back, eyes remaining closed as Dean broke the kiss, a soft moan escaping him as Dean's mouth moved down his throat to his chest. Gasped softly at the feel of Dean's tongue and teeth, his breath catching as he felt the small shallow wounds. Sam licked his lips, his head turning, though he kept it tilted back. "Dean.." his name was a whispered, husky, and full of need.

"Aren't you gonna stop me, Sam? Aren't you even gonna try?" Dean captured Sam's mouth again, furious and needy, battling Sam's tongue as he lifted Sam closer each time he thrust his hips. Their cocks slid together, over and over, but Dean couldn't get enough. He was gonna go crazy with need, need for pressure, need for blood, need to be inside his Sam. One quick move, and he turned Sam around, one arm encircling his waist, pulling him close, the other across his chest. He rubbed his cock up and down the cleft of Sam’s ass, running his teeth along the side of Sam's neck... wanting... wanting so bad... 

 

Sam tilted his head as he looked at Dean, a small grin lighting his face as he stepped closer. Putting his hand directly in front of Dean's face, Sam snapped his fingers. "Hey! Earth to Dean, come in Dean." He chuckled as he moved toward his seat, "Man, what was that? What were you all zoned out about?"

Blinking as Sam came into focus, Dean gripped Sam's wrist so tight he was in danger of breaking it. "Shshsh... vampire moment. Don't move." His gaze clung to Sam's mouth, his throat... where he'd been about to sink his teeth in, his chest... God, it had felt so good to touch him. He took a couple of breaths and released him. "I better get you home." 

Sam looked down at Dean's grip on his wrist frowning, before Dean had explained... the way he always did, 'vampire moment'. He stayed still, watching Dean's face, waiting to see if he needed help. What exactly Sam could do to help him he didn't know, but whatever Dean needed he would do if it ever came to that. As Dean released him, Sam pulled his hand back, trying to not let Dean see as he rubbed his wrist. "Um, are you okay?"

Nodding, Dean got up. "Daydream sneaked up on me. I'll tell you later." 

Sam quirked a brow, as he stood with Dean. "Daydream?" he grinned, "Aw, was it about me?" he teased, chuckling as he put an arm around Dean, giving him a sideways playful hug, before letting his arm drop.

"Sam!" Dean snapped, moving away and glaring at him. "Not funny. Not right now." Eyes dark, he strode out ahead of Sam, lifting his face to the cold wind until it reminded him of snow and steam, and of Sam naked and slippery. Groaning, he reached the car and unlocked it. "This is gonna be the longest five minutes of my life." 

Sam's eyes were wide as Dean snapped at him. He sighed, hung his head and followed after Dean. He paused in his steps, "I can walk or get a cab. It's cool."

"No. Get in." Dean slammed his door shut. 

With a sigh, Sam ran his hand through his hair and went to the car, opened the door and got in. Yeah, this was gonna be a long ride at this rate.

* * *

Sam walked into the cafeteria the next day at school and went straight to the Cullen's table, standing before all Dean's brothers and sisters smiling wide. "Jasper," he nodded, "Emmet, Rosalie," he nodded to them then his smile widened as he looked to Alice, "And the beautiful, Alice." Sam offered her a daisy as he leaned on the table, "Can I get you to do me a favor?" he glanced at Jasper, "Not to worry, dude, I'm a one...uh, Cullen man," he looked back at Alice, handing her a bag, "Can you set this up in Dean's room for me?" he glanced at the others, "If your family doesn't mind, we can get lunch and talk it over, I'll tell you my plan," he told her, grinning wide, dimples showing.

"I'm too old to need anyone's permission," Alice answered, giving said family a pointed look as she gracefully got up. "You realize Dean can read my mind? We'll need to be quick with whatever your _plan_ is so I can think about other things." Sam was pretty transparent in wanting to set up some sort of surprise. Gliding to the food stations, she looked over her shoulder at him. "He hates surprises."

Sam grinned, nodding, "Yeah, I know." he told her as he grabbed a tray and reached for a burger. "But he'll like this one," he said, his face serious, "I promise."

After he explained what he wanted her to do, then a smile curved her scarlet lips. "You're right, he's really going to like it -- after he calms down from thinking you were at the house." 

Sam chuckled and shrugged, "Meh, it's good for him. Keeps him on his toes. I wouldn't want to get boring on him," he told her with a wink. Sam went on to explain how to set up the device he had bought and where he would like it placed if possible, asking Alice to leave Dean's computer on so that all Sam had to do was turn his own on and voila, Dean would see his surprise. He blushed once he finished telling her everything and hung his head, "I'm really not a pervert," he said, a sheepish smile pulling at his lips, even as his face turned a deep shade of scarlet.

"That's too bad, Dean needs a pervert." Grabbing some carrots with dipping sauce, she glanced at him. "Change topics... any idea why he's been brooding since yesterday? I thought everything went well with Carl... dad."

 

Sam's eyes had widened at Alice's first words. How exactly did a virgin need a pervert? Nevermind, he didn't want to know.

Sam licked his lips and shrugged, "We went to dinner and everything was fine, I went to get this, and when I came back he had been having a daydream, he was smack dab in the middle of what he likes to call a ‘vampire moment’..." Sam sighed, "it didn't seem to let go of him very fast either."

"Oh, I see," she gave a nod. "He's probably trying to center himself. Give him time and space if he needs it," she advised. "I know it's hard on both of you, but for what it's worth... I think it will work out." 

Dean had stayed away for a while, but he found himself needing to see Sam again, so here he was walking into the cafeteria, his eyes unerringly finding his boyfriend's form. He searched Alice's mind and shook his head at her matchmaking efforts, then went to sit at an empty table.

Sam grinned at her, "Yeah, I think it will too." He leaned a little closer to her, "Tell Dean that for me, huh?" he asked with a wink as he picked up his tray. "Thanks, Alice. I really appreciate you doing this for me. I would, but Dean might just fall over dead if I actually _did_ go back to your house." 

After grabbing a drink, Sam turned to walk to a table, only to find Dean sitting at one, alone. He offered a small smile as he walked over and took a seat, sighing as he sat down. "Feeling... better?" Sam asked him quirking a brow.

Giving an almost imperceptible nod, Dean watched Sam eat. The silence stretched between them, just as it had in English class. "I think I was over-stimulated yesterday," he said quietly. 

Sam stopped chewing for a moment as he looked at Dean. He finished chewing his food, reached over and took a drink, then replaced the glass on the table, before he licked his lips, eyeing Dean. "Tell me... about the daydream?" Sam asked him softly.

"God Sam, you want me to think about that again?" Dean bit his lip. Deep down, he knew it had to hurt... one minute they'd been so fucking close, even kissed twice in one day, and then he'd retreated and was colder than ice all morning to the one person he didn't want to hurt... ever. Looking at a point on the wall, nowhere near Sam, he forced the words out, but tried not to re-visualize the daydream.

"It was a bit like your dream, but it went too far. I was in some... some steaming hot spring in the middle of a snowy place, and you came over. I told you to leave, that the hot spring and anything in it was mine to do with as I wanted... even kill. You didn't listen." He managed to snort. "You took off your clothes, all the while smiling like nothing could go wrong."

Sam smirked slightly as he sat back in his chair listening. Thinking to himself, _'Because it wouldn't go wrong. I know you. I trust you.'_ but he didn't voice it. Didn't want to interrupt Dean's thoughts and he was sure he'd get an argument over it anyway. "Go on." Sam told him quietly.

"You know how you kissed me in the car, at the hospital? I made you do that again, only it went on and on and I was... we were naked and moving together and I... I wanted you so fucking bad, in every way Sam... every way. I scraped my teeth over you, cut you. I took your blood and I turned you around, I was gonna fuck you... and … and I think... I think I would have drained you." He blinked, and took a heavy breath. "And when you snapped your fingers you were this close... this close," he pinched his thumb and index finger together. 

Sam curled the fingers of his hand that rested on the table into a fist, licked his lips. "That's the best place to do it, you know? A dream. See how it feels. See if you actually would do it." Sam shook his head, "I don't think you would, Dean. I know you think you would and you might want to... but I don't think you'd do it."

"I fought all night not to come and do it, Sam. All fucking night. I needed to see you, but I knew if I saw you, if I heard your blood rushing, smelled you... I..." He scrubbed his face again, and met Sam's eyes. "This morning, I was thinking of telling you I'm going away."

Sam's eyes widened, he leaned forward toward Dean, "What!? No! You can't leave!" he reached out and grabbed hold of Dean's jacket, "Don't do this. It's okay. I'm okay. You didn't _do_ anything."

"Sam." Deans hands covered Sam's and he shook his head. "I'm not... I'm not leaving, I can't." He licked his lips, knowing he could have said this better. "Just trying to explain it was _that_ bad." Searching Sam's face, he didn't see the panic receding. "I'm not leaving Sammy, I swear," he plucked Sam's hands off.

He looked down at their hands, on the table, close but separated... just like them. Swallowing, he continued. "I talked to Edward. He and Bella, they haven't even gone as far as we have. I don't know if that's a good or bad sign for us but..." He looked up.

Sam looked at him for a moment before speaking, hazel eyes searching his face, "I think it's good. Even your dad said, I'm stronger than Bella. You're not going to break me, Dean. I'm not made of glass." He licked his lips and smiled softly, "Call me. Tonight. Promise me that you will. Late, after my aunt is asleep. Okay?"

"I'll call you," Dean agreed, bewildered by the fact that Sam could still smile after all this. _Please God, if you're out there, let him not be like a sheep going to slaughter. Please._


	9. Chapter 9

It was close to midnight. Dean was feeling a lot better, so much so that he was contemplating a quick trip to Sam's room. Remembering that Sam had made it a point to tell him to phone, he wondered if Sam had a reason. Maybe he was seeing the light, maybe he was trying to be safe. "Not a chance," he muttered to himself, flopping down on his chaise lounge and dialing. When Sam picked up in one ring, he smiled into the phone. "Guess you were waiting?"

Sam smiled, as he held the phone in one hand, the towel around his hips with the other. "I was hoping that I timed it right is all," he said with a shrug as he walked over to his computer and fastened the towel around his hips. Booting the computer up, he moved the web cam to the top of his dresser facing his bed. "So, how was your afternoon?" He slowly backed up from the web cam, eyes on the lens as he tried to figure out exactly what Dean would be seeing and if it was lined up right. 

Sam listened to Dean, tossing in an 'uh-huh' where needed as he worked. Once he could see Dean, he climbed onto his bed, sitting down in the center and leaning back against the pillows. "Dean," Sam said his name, interrupting the silence that had fallen between them. "Turn around and look at your computer. Tell me what you see."

"Huh? What, you need me to research something now?" he mused turning his head toward his desk only to give a sharp start. "Sam?" Dean swung his legs down to the ground and leaned toward his large monitor, eyes glued on it. "I see you and you're all wet." In fact, Sam's hair was plastered to his forehead, just like in his day dream. The broad expanse of his chest was shiny with droplets of water, and lower, a towel was knotted at his waist. He knew he must sound like a moron, but he couldn't muster up a clever thought to save his life right now.

Sam grinned at the camera pointed at him, "Surprise."

The smile was wiped off Dean's face as quickly as it started to spread. "Goddamnit... sonova... Sam, I told you, I told THEM, I don't want you here, not without me. You just... why the fuck do you have to push the envelope? Why?" he demanded, working himself up. "I tell you it’s dangerous, you don't listen. I tell you that you might die, and you fucking smile and say 'not a chance.' I ask you to --"

"Alice, Dean." Sam cut him off with a sigh. "It's rather amazing what a nice vampire girl will do for a flower and some sweet talk. She's quite the hopeless romantic." he muttered, rolling over onto his side as he reached under his bed for something, laying the small bottle beside him on the bed as he pulled back up. "I gave the stuff to Alice at school today and _she_ set it up for me. I stayed away. I did what you asked of me."

"Alice..." Unclenching his fist, Dean nodded. "Okay." He could see the possibilities in this, it was much better than just phone sex. Sam had said they might have to find other ways to get together, and this was his way of making it happen. A good one. Dean's gaze devoured Sam's form, his mind going to what was under that towel. "Are you going to take it off, the towel?" he asked thickly, only vaguely wondering what Sam had in his hand. 

Sam chuckled, "Probably. Likely. Yeah." Sam licked his lips, rolled the opposite way and turned off the main light in his room, the only light left was directed only on him and his bed, leaving the rest of Sam's room black in the web cam.

“I want to see you too. Undress for me. Slowly. And tell me more about your daydream. How you felt, how I felt to you. Tell me everything, Dean." Sam told him, his voice dropping to a dark whisper.

"Who have you done this with before?" Dean demanded, unable to beat down his jealous streak, even as he reached for the hem of his tee shirt.

Sam blinked, frowned and shook his head as he looked up at the cam, "No one. Why?"

"You sure about that Sam? The lighting, the knowing where to put the cameras, the... you know just what to say thing. Tell me." He pulled the shirt up his body and over his head, turning so that Sam could see him clearly. 

Sam licked his lips, shook his head. "I've never had... never done _this_ before. I've used a web cam, I know a lot about computers and stuff, that's all. Sometimes on a hunt," he shrugged, "there was a girl who used to talk to me, she always used a cam, but not like this. It wasn't sexual," he shrugged, "at least not on my end. I guess I'm just... inspired." He grinned at the camera.

Dean visibly relaxed, not that he'd have a leg to stand on even if Sam had done this with others. "How about the towel? I have a one track mind, I didn't forget," he gave a rueful smile. "Tug on it, I want to see it come apart."

Sam's grin widened, as his hand moved off the bed to slowly, teasingly move toward the towel only to stop as he looked up from his hand to the camera and lick his lips slowly. Hazel eyes went back to his hand, as he reached for the knot, giving the towel a small tug. The knot came loose revealing Sam's hip and side of his thigh and ass against the bed. He looked back up at the camera and swallowed. "Okay. You, uh, show me more."

"You're... perfect, just like I thought." He wanted to ask Sam to roll over onto his side, so he could see him... really see him. Nodding, he undid his button, his chest constricting at the rapt attention on Sam's face. He unzipped his jeans and pulled them off, his eyes never leaving Sam's. "Can you see?"

Sam licked his lips, his breath catching in his throat, "Yeah." the word was a sigh before he closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing. Sam opened his eyes and looked back into the camera as his hand slowly moved to the towel again, "Start telling me." he said softly as he started to push the towel away, revealing himself completely to Dean's eyes. "I was in the water with you, sucking your tongue and you wanted to fuck me... keep going."

A strangled sound broke from Dean when Sam finally let him see his cock, a warm flush stealing over his normally cool body. Nodding and wetting his suddenly dry lips, Dean tried to describe his feelings. "The way you're sucking my tongue, the way you kiss along its side, I've never seen anything like it. Felt anything like it. It makes me think of how it would feel if your mouth was on my cock. I'm getting hard, so fucking hard, Sam." He squirmed slightly, struggling against the need to move his hand over himself, even as he stared at the monitor... not wanting to miss any of Sam’s reactions.

"I grip your hips, hold you so hard against me, there's no space between us. You're wet and slippery, and big... God you feel good against my cock. I try to position you so that we are fucking each other's cocks, but in the back of my head... I know I shouldn't be doing this... I know. I tell myself I'm trying to teach you a lesson, but I'm not Sam... I just... I just need you so bad, so fucking bad it hurts."

Sam swallowed hard, his hand running down his chest as his back arched ever so slightly, eyes closing briefly as he took his dick in his hand and started to slowly pump himself, the bottle of lube he'd grabbed forgotten. "Tell me, tell me what you wanted to do to me, Dean," Sam demanded, looking at the monitor through heavy lidded eyes.

"I wanted to fuck you, Sam. I wanted to own you. I wanted to brand you, to mark you..." he was panting slightly, watching Sam's hand slide up and down his cock, watching his face as he entered a state of complete euphoria. His own hand moved over his shorts, to his cock and he squeezed, closing his eyes for only a second. "I wanted to be inside you so far you'd feel me the next day."

Sam gasped softly, as his eyes closed, straight white teeth biting his bottom lip. He nodded slowly as he opened his eyes, "And I would have let you. Welcomed it," he said, voice husky with his arousal. "Would have..." Sam moaned softly, "Would have opened up for you, let you take me. Begged you for more. Told you over and over not to stop, not to ever stop."

Somehow, Dean's hand had worked its way into his shorts and he was taking himself as he watched Sam, listened to him. "Oh God... oh God Sam, I was right up against your ass, I wanted so badly to push inside. If you told me not to stop... I..." Switching tactics, Dean started to pretend this was real. "I’m pushing inside you Sam, but you're so fucking tight I'm afraid of hurting you. I try to slow down, but I can't... I can't because I don't have that much control... I tried to tell you that, but you didn't listen. I'm inside you. I'm sorry I'm hurting you. I beg you to forgive me. To tell me to stop... because maybe if you tell me, I can find the strength not to keep thrusting, not to keep wanting to feel you squeeze me so tight."

Sam gasped softly, swallowing. His eyes closed, but he made himself open them again, so he could watch Dean. His back arched as his hips bucked up toward his fist. "Oh God... " he shook his head, "Not gonna tell you to stop. Never tell you that," he breathed out the words, chest rising and falling hard in his aroused state, "Tell you how full you make me feel, how good it is, how right. How I don't want you to stop. Wanna feel you for days. Want you to make it hurt, make me remember always that I'm yours." Sam moaned, bit his lip, as his neck arched again.

"I fuck you harder, I can't help it, not when you're telling me to. Oh God Sam, I'm moving so hard, so fast, I want you so bad and in so many ways, it hurts. You're mine, I whisper in your ear. I tell you again, until you agree, and then I ... Sammy I can't help it, I'm sorry, I can't help it... I need to taste you... I sink my teeth into your shoulder, oh God... you taste better than you smell... and I'm lost, so fucking lost. I can hear you in my head. You should be telling me to stop, but you're not. So I fuck your wound with my tongue, maybe it will stop me from drinking... and I pound into you harder, concentrating on how that feels... the pressure building... I'm gonna come, I mean NOW." Dean leaned back and raised his hips. "Say my name. Come with me... please Sam," his voice was edged with desperation.

Sam was panting hard, his hand moving fast on himself, body tense, muscles straining. His neck taunt, arched though he kept his eyes on the monitor. His tongue darted out to run along his lips as a loud moan escaped him. "Yes, yes, oh God, yes." he whispered, breathlessly. Sam's lips parted, mouth open before he bit hard into his bottom lip, a loud whimper escaping, his face turning a deep crimson. 

With a grunt, he thrust his hips up, "Dean! Fuck!" the words were a near shout in the quiet of his bedroom as the first ribbon of come spilled from his cock wetting his hand. Sam gasped in air like a drowning man as his back arched, his eyes squeezing closed. "Oh fuck me! Shit!" he swore between gritted teeth as he rode out his orgasm, until he was finally spent, body collapsing back against the bed, he lay still as small tremors ran through him.

The entire time Sam was coming, Dean forced himself to keep his eyes open and watch. He was so fucking beautiful, so his... all his, Dean had no doubt of that now. Giving one last groan of satisfaction as he spent himself, Dean sat up again and wiped his hand on his tee shirt. He tasted blood on his lips, but it was his own, and that made him smile. "I didn't hurt you, I didn't..."

Sam smiled as he laid there, eyes closed, "Actually, I think you killed me," he chuckled softly as he slowly opened his eyes, looking into the monitor. "Dean?" he called to him softly, "Look at me." Sam told him, waiting for Dean to look at him and only him. "I love you," he said softly, gazing at Dean's face in the monitor.

"I know, Sam." He smiled. "Why else would you put up with me... this?" This had been the most intense experience of his lengthy life, but Sam's out-loud admission topped it. "Sam? I love you too."

Sam smiled wide at the monitor, before looking down at the mess on his stomach and hand. Arching his back he tugged the towel out so he could wipe off with it. He looked back at the monitor as he paused in mid-motion. "You wanna come lick this off too?" he asked Dean, quirking a brow and fighting back the snicker that threatened to spill over.

As if the image of Sam arching up like that wasn't enough, now he was teasing him. Dean didn't hide his groan. "You know I do. You also know teasing a vampire's not a good idea," he shook his head, feeling oddly sated and not at all dangerous at the moment. "You should cover up. Your aunt is coming to check on you."

Sam chuckled as he continued in motion, pulling the towel up, his back lowering to the bed as he cleaned up. His eyes suddenly flew back to the monitor, widened and shifted toward his door. "What!? She is!? Shit!" he swore softly, before pulling from the bed and hurrying toward the door, still completely naked.

One hand on the door knob, the other pressed against the wood of the door, Sam cracked the door open and peeked out, closing it with a huff before throwing the lock. Turning, Sam glared at the monitor. "You're such a liar." 

 

Dean cracked up, laughing so hard you didn't have to be a vampire to hear him outside the open windows. "I did get a good look at that ass you were hiding, and now..." he cleared his throat, staring unabashedly at the full frontal view. "Damn... you're so fucking hot, and I'm not sorry." He crossed his arms, very amused. "Let me pick you up tomorrow morning. I think I can kiss you awake and ask for your forgiveness."

Sam crawled back into bed, laying on his stomach with his face turned to the camera. "Yeah? You think I'm hot, huh?" he grinned wider, wiggled his butt chuckling softly. “Kiss me awake? Mm... I like that idea." Taking a deep breath, Sam looked at Dean in the monitor, "I guess I shouldn't sleep naked for you then, huh? Wouldn't want you to ravish me before I'm awake to enjoy it." 

He reached under his pillow with one hand and pulled out a pistol, dropping it into the bedstand drawer with a shrug, "I know it wouldn't hurt you, but it would sure spoil the mood if I shot you before I got that kiss."

Emulating one of Sam's knowing smiles, Dean merely said, "you'd never hurt me."

Crossing the room, he pulled out some new shorts and silently changed with his back to the camera, and then returned to sit. "You should sleep now. Will you leave your camera on?" Somehow, he wouldn't feel like he was alone if he could simply look up and see Sam.

Sam smiled and nodded, eyelids heavy. "Planned to." he murmured softly. Slowly pulling his arms up so his palms were flat against the mattress, elbows bent, Sam pushed himself up of the bed. He got a pair of boxers, slipped them on and returned to the bed, laying flat on his stomach. "Dean? I think you're beautiful," Sam said softly, his words slurring with sleep.

Most humans would think that, but knowing Sam felt that way still sent a warm feeling through Dean. It made him smile like he had everything he ever wanted. 

Sam was silent for a few moments, before he spoke again, "Dean?" Sam raised his head, licked his lips, though his eyes remained closed as he brushed hair from his eyes and laid his head back down, "Next step is you... here. In my bed." He spoke so softly, only his vampire boyfriend could have heard him.

"Maybe," Dean answered, feeling very positive about it. "I think yes, Sam." 

** *

The instant Cathleen's car left the driveway, Dean catapulted up into Sam's room, landing quietly. He watched Sam for a few moments, before turning his web cam off just in case one of the Cullens wandered into his room and got an eyeful on his computer. Then he went and sat on the edge of the bed, whispering. "It's me." It wasn't a good idea to startle either one of them, so he put the warning out and heard Sam's breathing pattern change, indicating to him that Sam was coming out of his sleep.

He'd wanted to crawl inside the bed for this, but what had seemed a good idea from the safety of his own room wasn't as great when he was right here with his boyfriend, who didn't have to do anything but breathe to drive him crazy. Slipping one arm under Sam's neck and cupping his head, Dean fitted his mouth over Sam's and kissed him lightly. The single touch sent a jolt of longing through the vampire. Pushing his tongue past Sam's unresisting lips, he started to kiss him properly, his tongue stroking and exploring... teasing Sam awake.

Sam sighed into the kiss, even before he realized what was happening, before his mind became fully awake, alert. He'd known, just known that it was Dean, though he didn't remember being shaken awake or hearing him announce his presence. Well, at least Dean hadn't done it in the way his dad usually did. Half yelling, telling him to get his ass up, and that he was there and there were things that needed killing. 

Slowly, Sam's arms moved to encircle Dean's shoulders, pulling him closer as his tongue started moving against Dean's. A soft moan escaping him as he ran a hand up the back of Dean's neck, cupping his head, digits threading through his soft short hair.

Good, so good. Dean was careful to prevent Sam's tongue from getting too close to his fangs without his own tongue providing a buffer. Trying to concentrate on that while kissing the hell out of his boyfriend was hard. Experimentally, he sucked on Sam's tongue, pulling it into his mouth. Fuck, that sent a jolt of heat straight to his cock. He probably should stop now. He was stopping... he would be stopping... 

Sam's hold around Dean tightened, his hips thrusting upward at the feel of Dean sucking on his tongue, his moan swallowed up by Dean's mouth on his. Sam pulled one hand from around Dean repositioning it under Dean's arm, lower as he wrapped it around Dean again, ran his hand down Dean's back, his other hand, fingers still threaded in Dean's hair. 

Sam tugged on him, trying to pull him more into his bed, wanting more of him, wanting him next to him, near him, on top of him.

The instant Sam came awake and gave as good as he got, warning bells rang in the back of Dean's mind. He felt Sam struggle to pull him closer, such a demanding little human... He couldn't deny him. Slowly he moved, lowering his weight over Sam, whispering, "don't move too much, Sammy. Please, let's go slow." He wanted this as badly as Sam, but one of them had to be cautious, and it sure as hell wasn't Sam.

Breathing through parted lips, Sam looked at Dean through hooded eyes and nodded. He swallowed, "Okay." He said softly, before pulling his head up off the pillow reclaiming Dean's mouth with his own. 

Tongue darting inside, Sam flicked his tongue against Dean's teasingly, before sucking Dean's tongue into his mouth, a soft moan leaving him. Sam's hands moved on Dean's body, the one on his back, caressing up and down. The hand in Dean's hair, flexed gently and unflexed as he pressed Dean down, forcing Dean’s mouth firmly against his own.

Fire. Sam was on fire and he was pretty sure it was a good way to die. His body ached with need as he arched back into Dean, his lungs burned with need for more air, but he didn't care, didn't listen as he just continued to kiss Dean for all he was worth, putting his all into it. 

Dean groaned into Sam's mouth, arching into him, feeling his arousal pressing against his thigh. He remembered how Sam looked fully aroused, how he'd stroked himself, how he'd wanted to be the one stroking him. Slowly, he rolled off, his mouth still fused to Sam's, still kissing him. He ran his hand along the side of Sam's face, cupping it as he gave him one last hard kiss, then broke away. "You... you really need to breathe." He cleared his throat and stood up before Sam could tempt him some more, turning around, his eyes bright and clear. "That went well." 

Sam's hands grabbed to hold onto Dean as he felt him begin to pull back, to pull away. _No, don't go. It's okay. Please._ Sam lay panting as he looked up at Dean, desire burning him alive, even as Dean put an end to it. With a huff, Sam licked his lips. "Yeah... well, all except for my blue balls."

"Blue? Really?" Dean sounded proud of himself. "Let me see."

Sam sat up on the edge of his bed. "Too late, you could have done a lot more than see, but _you_ stopped." Sam grinned smugly at him, before pulling to his feet and walking toward the bathroom. "Maybe I'll just beat off in the shower," he called back over his shoulder, before closing the door behind him.

Dean was too happy at his success to even growl. "I'm listening," was his answer, as he sat back on the bed, and got under the cover, rearranging the pillow. He could still feel the warmth from Sam's body, and his scent clung to the bed sheets and pillows. Best of all, even though his craving never left him, it wasn't so sharp that he was afraid for Sam right now. No, he was having a really good day.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his hips, wet hair clinging to his forehead as he walked to his dresser. He glanced over his shoulder at Dean inside his bed and grinned, "You like it? Might be better if I was in it with you." he told him, before looking back and pulling out clean clothes. 

Sam had shaved, brushed his teeth and bathed in the showerless bathroom, but he hadn't done what he'd threatened though he wasn't going to admit it, not even if Dean asked. Though, he was pretty sure Dean would know if he had, probably would have heard him... or just plain been able to tell. Turning back around to face Dean, Sam quirked a brow and licked his lips. "Don't move." he told him, using the words Dean always used on him as he let the towel drop to the floor and prepared to put his boxers on.

"Prick-tease..." Dean whispered thickly, his gaze locked on Sam. "I used to laugh or roll my eyes at all the sex obsessed people whose minds I read. I think I’m one of them now. This is _your_ fault."

Sam glanced up as he stepped into his boxers a slow smile spreading across his face as he shook his head. "Oh no, you can't blame this one on me. I was never a perv before you either. One person, remember?" He pulled his boxers up and grabbed for his jeans. "I think it's you... you and all those pornos you watch."

"I don't walk out of the house thinking pornos, I walk out thinking YOU." Dean nodded, watching as Sam put his jeans on. "Don't move."

He got out of the bed and moving behind Sam pulled his jeans the rest of the way up his body. Dragging Sam hard against his body, so Sam could feel his arousal, he whispered, "you're not the only one with blue balls." 

He found Sam's zipper and pulled it up, closing his eyes at the sound. "One day I'll be opening it, just like that," he vowed, kissing Sam across the cheek before starting to move away. "You eat breakfast. I'll wait for you in the car."

Sam stilled, letting Dean do what he wanted, his head tilting back, lips parting with a soft moan as he felt Dean's arousal press against his backside. He pulled his head up, swallowing as he nodded at Dean’s promise. 

His hand shot out to grasp Dean's shirt in his fist. "I'll eat breakfast and meet you in the car, like you want me to. But, one day," Sam shook his head, "I'm not gonna do that. You're going to be my breakfast. I'm gonna swallow everything you give me and come back for more," he told him softly, before letting go of Dean's shirt and reaching for his own.

"Oh God, Sam," Dean gave a strangled cry. "I hope so." With that, he was out the window, and standing leaning against his car in the cool air, trying to keep his mind off Sam for just a little while. He wanted the whole day to be a good one, not just part of it. He wanted to stay in control, but he wanted to flirt with danger... flirt with Sam too. Did that make him a fool. Yeah, big fucking fool. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked longingly at the house.

Sam finished dressing, grabbing his jacket before rushing down the stairs and going to the kitchen. After drinking a glass of orange juice, he grabbed a pop-tart, poured a travel mug of coffee and headed for the door not wanting to be away from Dean any longer than he had to be. 

Pulling his jacket on, Sam shoved the pop-tart in his pocket, threw his back-pack over his shoulder and grabbed the travel mug he had sat down on the small table near the door then stepped outside, closing the front door behind him. Descending the steps, Sam smiled at Dean. "Fast enough?"

Dean pointed at him. "You haven't eaten." Not saying anything else, he got inside the car, and leaning across, opened the passenger side even though it was unlocked.

Sam looked up at the gray skies and sighed as he walked around the car, folding his tall frame into the car before closing the door. He looked over at Dean as he slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding his pop-tart. "Breakfast." Sam told him. "Coffee and a pop-tart, breakfast of champions."

"Watch the crumbs," Dean winked, and started the car. "Buckle up, not that I plan on an accident but it would be the irony of ironies. You survived me but not the drive." The joke was a bit bitter in his mouth so he moved on and talked about other things.

They were at school too fast. It was still a little early so Dean made no move to open the door. He looked over at Sam. "What do you dream about? Other than sex with me."

Sam frowned, a pop-tart bite in his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and took a sip of coffee before shaking his head. 

"Uh, nothing really... why?" 

It wasn't like he was going to tell Dean about his nightmares about demons. No, those were something he wasn't sharing with anyone. He never told his father, he sure as hell wasn't telling his boyfriend.

"You know why." When Sam didn't answer, Dean continued. "Because I can't read your mind. Because it drives me crazy not knowing. Do you need another reason? Tell me." He noticed Sam worrying his lower lip, and straightened. "What's wrong? Sam?"

Sam released his lip, shook his head. "Nothing." he forced a smile, "I'm fine. Its fine." He toyed with the remains of his pop-tart, no longer meeting Dean's gaze. "So, are you gonna tell me if you have another daydream?" he asked, glancing up and quirking a brow, the corner of his lips quirked up in a half smirk.

"I'll you anything you want," he said pointedly. He wouldn't forget this, he'd ask again later. Get to the bottom of what was bothering Sam about his innocuous question. 

Dean might have said more, but a car pulled up next to his. "Oh, you're about to be asked to go to a birthday party, by several people. It's a surprise party for your friend, Mike. You should go." He opened his door.

Sam looked from Dean out the window and back, but Dean was already getting out. Sam scrambled to open his own door and step out, looking across the top at Dean, "Will you go with me?" Sam asked him, just before Stacy and three other girls walked over along with Tom. 

"Dude! Party! It's for Mike. You gotta be there." Tom told him, glancing at Dean before leaning in to whisper in Sam's ear, "You can bring your man." Tom pulled away grinning and waggling his brows at Sam. 

"Yeah, Sam, you should come to the party." Stacy told him, glancing at Dean with a none too friendly look before she looked back at Sam. "I'll be there... and so will Becky. She draws really well. You should let her draw you sometime." Stacy smirked as she glanced again at Dean then looked back at Sam. "I'll go with you if you're shy." 

Sam looked from his friends back to Dean, waiting for his answer. After a moment of Dean not saying anything, Sam looked down at Stacy and shook his head, "I don't think--" 

"Come on, man! It's Mike!" Tom interrupted him. 

Sam looked back at Dean, biting his lip.

Dean scanned a few minds and found out it was at the beach that he often went to late at night. He nodded at Sam, ignoring the rest. They were right, he didn't really give a shit who they were or what they thought. 

Sam looked back over at Tom, and nodded with a grin, "We'll be there." 

Tom let out a whoop and grabbed up one of the girls kissing her soundly, just because he could. "Cool, dude. I'll set ya up with the directions and time and shit later." Tom told him, before walking off with all the girls save one following after him. 

Stacy gave Sam a look of disgust and shook her head, then turned with her nose in the air and walked off in another direction. 

Sam looked back at Dean chuckling, "Pissed her off." 

"She wants your _eight_ inches." He gave Sam a grin. "Ballpark. And it's enough to satisfy a Cullen, in case you’re wondering."

Sam grinned and looked at the ground, blushing a light shade of pink. Looking back up, he quirked a brow, licked his lips, "You think it'll do, eh? Might need to test that theory soon." Sam waggled his eyebrows at Dean, before pulling his backpack from the car and closing the door.

"Might." He waited for Sam and then they headed inside the building. "See you in class." Starting to walk away, he turned suddenly and whispered into Sam's ear. "I kiss you hard, pressing your back against those lockers, sliding my tongue in and out of your mouth until Stacy and her artist friend fucking faint at our feet and get the message."

Face as serene as if he'd just talked about the weather, Dean pulled back and walked away, leaving a stunned Sam to give his excuses for the way he was looking.

* * *

Sam parked the Impala beside Tom's Mustang, as he pushed the send button on his cell phone and waited for Dean to pick up. No answer. Sam sighed, frowning. "Uh, hey, it's me. Listen, they moved the party. It's at La Push now. Same time, same situation apparently. Yeah, bring your own booze." Sam snickered softly, "Guess that doesn't really apply to you. Well, I'll see ya soon." Sam was quiet for a moment as he bit his lip, "Yeah, okay, bye." Closing his cell, he looked out the window of the Impala for a few moments before reaching for the door handle and opening it, sliding from behind the wheel. 

"Sam! Dude!" It was Tom, and apparently he was already well on his way to a good buzz.

Sam reached into the car and grabbed the bottle of Jack, before straightening and closing the door.

Tom's eyes lit up at the sight of the bottle of Jack, "Ooh, Sam Winchester doesn't play around with his booze!"

Sam looked down at the Jack in his hand and back to Tom with a shrug, "If I want a quick buzz." he waggled the bottle. His great aunt had a stash of liquor that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. That was much easier than getting an older person to buy some.

 

Cars started pulling up at the beach as teenagers rolled out. A couple of the guys built some fires. It wasn't raining, and if they were lucky, it wouldn't for a while. Beers were passed around and someone started to blare some music.

Stacy zeroed in on Sam, always standing near him and reminding him what she'd said about the Cullens. "I'm not saying it to hurt you, you know that," she said, moving close and trying to steal some of the warmth of his body. "That's how all the Cullens are, they only care about each other. You can't pretend what goes on in that house isn't sick... even if you have it bad for Dean Cullen, come on Sam, you know what I'm talking about."

A few others chimed in with their opinions. The most vocal ones agreed that Dean was probably using Sam, but didn't really give a shit about him. That he'd retreat back to his family when he got tired of playing around. A couple others kept pointing out he wasn't even here. That he never came to parties and that he wouldn't for Sam either.

One or two spoke up for Dean, but they didn't really know him and were quickly beaten down. 

Then the fireside dancing started, and very few people were left standing around. 

Sam had uncapped the Jack when everyone started talking about Dean and how he was just using him. How he wasn't going to show up, not even for him. With a sigh, Sam pulled out his cell as he brought the bottle up to his lips again and took a long pull. 

Scrolling down to Dean's number he called, and again there was no answer. Closing his cell, Sam tucked it back into his pocket and took another drink. 

"See? He's not going to show, Sam. I'm sorry." Stacy, who had been dancing with the birthday boy was now standing beside him again. He looked down at her, but didn't say anything, only took another drink, stepping around her to walk away. 

"Why don't you let it go, Sam!? There are plenty of girls who would treat you better than this! Hell, there's a lot of guys if that's what you want!" she called after him. 

Sam turned around glaring at her, though he continued to walk backward away from her. After a moment he turned around again and continued walking away from the fires, walking along the waters edge.

Trevor had been watching from the cliffs. He wasn't much for parties, or for outsiders, but there was one exception. That tall boy, the one his family had tried to fix up with Kim... something about him got under Trevor's skin. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. And here he was... just like the last time when he'd been thinking about him before dawn, and he'd appeared. It had to mean something, it had to.

He scrambled down the face of the cliff, dropping down on the sand and heading toward the lone figure walking away from the party with a bottle in his hand. "Hey, hey Sam, wait up," he shouted, running toward him.

Sam glanced over, toward the voice to find Kim's brother, the one that freaked him the hell out, hurrying toward him. Damn it all. Sam sighed, though he stopped walking, waiting to see what the guy wanted. "What is it, Trevor?" Sam asked him, his words starting to slur drunkenly.

"Thought I'd..." A dark look crossed Trevor's features. "You stink like Cullens." He spat on the ground, dark eyes blazing with jealousy and hatred. "Which one touched you?"

Sam eyed the guy, frowning before taking another long pull from the bottle, nearly emptying it. "I don't see were that's any of your business." Turning, he started to walk away, staggering drunkenly. Once more, he lifted the bottle to his lips, draining it, before wiping the back of his hand across his lips. He huffed as he looked at the empty bottle, he'd drank the whole damn thing. Just went to show how upset he was apparently. Normally two beers and he was singing karaoke.

In two steps, Trever caught up to him and gripping his arm, swung him around. "It's Dean Cullen, isn't it? He's the only one who isn't fucking another Cullen. Why do you stink of him?" The instant he released Sam, Sam started to stumble. Trevor caught him again. "He's sick, he's disgusting, and now he's doing dirty things with you. Does he bite you?" He wanted the answer to be yes, he wanted it so damned bad. Cause that would be the end of the Cullens. It would be war.

Glaring, Sam shrugged out of Trevor's grip and almost fell over in the process. He only caught himself, by using Trevor to lean on, hand on his shoulder. He shook his head, grinning suddenly, "Dean Cullen doesn't bite me. He doesn't do anything to me." Sam started laughing for no reason. "I have a boyfriend I can't even fuck." He laughed harder, staggering backward to land on his ass in the sand, but it didn't stop the fit of giggling laughter that seemed to have overtaken him. He laid back in the sand laughing, his eyes filling with tears.

"He's not your boyfriend," Trevor shouted, uncontrollable fury taking a grip on him. He started to shake, but fought off the change. Instead, he gripped Sam and dragged him toward the water. "I'm going to wash that Cullen stink off you. You're never going near him again, you fucking got that? He is bad medicine. Dark. Evil," with each word, he pulled Sam deeper into the freezing cold water of the ocean. 

Sam had kept laughing until the cold water hit him, now he was frowning and struggling against Trevor's hold. He reached for the knife in the ankle holster he wore, but for some reason he couldn't seem to figure out how to reach it. Of course, he also couldn't seem to get his legs to work very well either. Yeah....way too much Jack.   
"Trevor, stop!"

"Not until you're clean," he snarled, pushing Sam under the water and roughly scrubbing his body. That scent... it was still on him, on his face, coming from his breath. "Bastard... bastard touched you like that." Putting his hand on top of Sam's head, he pushed him completely under, holding him there as waves crashed over them. Even if Sam hadn't been drunk, he wouldn't have a chance... none. It was how it should be, Sam needed to know his place... his place was where Trevor said it should be.

 _I AM CLEAN!_ the yelled thought sat at the tip of Sam's tongue, but he never got to say it. Instead, he struggled against Trevor, tried to pry his hands off him, tried to push him away. Sam grunted at the rough handling, started swearing under his breath only to have water in his mouth and up his nose for his efforts. 

He fought for air, fought to get free. His lungs were burning and not like when Dean kissed him for too long, this was a different kind of burn, painful and frightening. He thrashed under the water, fighting to surface, to gulp in air, but Trevor held fast. 

Sam kicked, arms flailing, tried to punch at Trevor, but only felt empty water. Why was no one helping him? Were they not paying any attention? Didn't they see him? Was this freak really gonna kill him?

"Wash him off... wash his fucking scent off," Trevor ranted, his voice hardly audible due to the roar of the waves. When he finally pulled Sam up out of the water, when he deemed him 'clean enough,' he carried him back to shore. "Mine." Without setting him down, he crushed his mouth against Sam's in a bruising kiss intended to show him who was alpha, and who was the bitch.

Sam coughed and sputtered ocean water, but just when he thought he might finally be free of Trevor, he found his lips crushed under Trevor's and the guys tongue in his mouth.   
Sam's eyes widened as he struggled, tried to shove him away, tried to break the kiss, to turn his head. 

Somewhere in Sam's mind he suddenly realized his feet weren't touching the ground, which was odd for him to say the least. At six foot four, full grown as he was, he hadn't been picked up by anyone in years... unless it was a demon or spirit doing the lifting. 

His hands doubled into fists where they sat on Trevor's shoulders as he continued to squirm, pushing against him, trying to get away. With no other way coming to mind, he used the trick he'd seen a million girls use and brought his knee up hard, connecting with Trevor's groin.

"Fucking bastich," Trevor shouted, dropping Sam and covering his groin. He started to shake and shudder, his eyes grew red, "get away, go... go," he snarled, trying to hold his shape, trying to hold it before he killed Sam.

Sam stared at Trevor but at the guy’s snarled words, Sam remembered the whole reason for the harsh move. Get away. Stumbled to his feet, he ran the whole way back to his car, quickly climbing in. 

It wasn't until Sam was driving away from La Push that he realized he was shivering, his teeth chattering, salt water dripping from his hair onto his face and running into his eyes. 

He drove home at speeds no sober person had a right to be driving at, let alone someone as drunk as as him. Thankfully, he only saw one other car on the road, and it wasn't a cop. 

Pulling into his aunts driveway, Sam turned off the car and sat back in the seat with a sigh, still shaking with cold, hair still dripping. A few moments later, he opened the door, slid from behind the wheel and staggered to the front door and inside, falling at least three times as he climbed the stars to his room. Finally making it inside his room. He locked the door and leaned his forehead against it.

"Sam, you shouldn't be driving drunk," Dean said, pushing away from the window he'd been leaning against. He'd noticed that Sam parked the car cock-eyed and heard him stumbling. As he walked toward him, the smell of salt water and a stench he couldn't stand hit him. 

Sam turned his head to look at Dean, glaring, a hard frown marring his face. He watched Dean as he walked over like nothing was wrong, like he hadn't stood him up, like he hadn't almost been drowned, like he hadn't been man handled and kissed and....

"What have you done?" Dean asked, reaching out and grabbing at Sam's wet clothes. "Swimming drunk, Sam?" The level of his alarm was rising by the second.  
"Fuck you! What do you care!?" Sam spat at him, as he pushed away from the door, away from Dean, staggering toward his bed. Only his hand out in front of him kept Sam from falling onto it.

"Sam." Dean grabbed him. "You can't go to bed like that. You're fucking freezing. Come on... these have to come off and you're taking a hot shower. Sam? You can't be THAT drunk." Dean's mouth tightened in disapproval as he started to undress him.

Sam shoved at Dean's hands, "Stop it! I've already been man handled once tonight." Sam huffed, before crawling onto his bed and collapsing, face down.

"I am not manhandling you, dammit." A cold fear blossomed in Dean's belly. He sat down on the bed, undecided. "Dammit Sam, tell me. What happened? Did someone do something to you." He sniffed the putrid smell again, annoyed but another fear taking precedence. "Sam!"


	10. Chapter 10

Rolling Sam over onto his back, he cupped his chin. The look in his eyes and the trembling of his lips had Dean pulling him into his arms. "Tell me… or don't... but you gotta get out of these," he insisted, peeling the jacket off and cursing as the wet materials stuck. He started on Sam's shirt, unbuttoning it, trying not to make any judgments about what might have happened.

Sam didn't say anything for a while, just looked at Dean, watching him. "What are they? The Native Americans on the res? And why don't you ever go on their land?" Sam asked him, jaw clenched even as he trembled. "Why did you stand me up, Dean? You wouldn't go there, even for me?" Sam asked, his voice softer, hurt.

Dean stilled at the tone of Sam's voice. Their gazes locked and he didn't know why, but he felt tears stinging his own eyes. "I'd go anywhere for you Sam, do anything for you. Except go there." He took that back, shaking his head. "No. If... If I'd known you were in any danger, I'd have gone there. I would have come after you. I swear."

He licked his lips. "Please take your pants off... we can talk after you've warmed up." 

Sam shook his head slowly, "You didn't tell me why. Didn't tell me what they were. And don't lie, I know they're something. I saw it, tonight. After I kicked one in the nuts to get his tongue out from down my throat," Sam said, voice flat.

Dean's fingers wrapped around Sam's arms until he realized he might be hurting him. Unclenching his fingers, he bent down and unbuttoned and unzipped Sam's jeans himself. "I never lie to you, well maybe once, before you knew what I am. There are some werewolves on the res." His gaze met Sam’s and he wondered if the hunter remembered his 'sleeping with the dogs' comment. "One on one, a vampire can tear a werewolf apart. But they hunt in packs." Grabbing the wet material, he pulled it off Sam's legs, rising and heading inside to turn on the shower. "Sonovabitch... you don't have a shower?" 

Turning the bath on, he strode back. Trying not to look, he dragged Sam's boxer's off and pulled some blankets up over his body. Sitting close, he pulled him into his arms again. "There's a treaty between the Cullens and the wolves. We don't go on their lands, we don't bite anyone... and there is no war between us. We do any of those things, we get war and that means we can’t stay here. No big mystery, Sam. Now… who forced their tongue down your throat because I'm gonna..." he didn't complete that thought, trying to fight off the blood lust welling up within him. The fact that he'd notices scratches and sand burns on Sam's cheeks and neck weren't helping. By the time the night was out, someone was going to pay for hurting Sam. 

Sam closed his eyes, shook his head. "You aren't going to do anything, Dean. It was a werewolf. I'll take care of it. Remember? It's what I do. If I need help... I'll call my dad." After a minute Sam snorted, "Fucker tried to drown me first, saying I stank of you. Kept telling me I was his."

"His name. What's his name," Dean hefted Sam up in his arms, carrying him sideways as if he weighed nothing. 

Sam clenched his jaw shut, shook his head. "No, Dean. There's a treaty, remember? I'm not gonna let you put yourself in danger. I'm okay. I got away and I'm home." He ran a hand down his face, glancing down. "What the hell is it tonight? Supernatural things carrying me around!?" he huffed, shaking his head. "Could only happen to me," he muttered half to himself.

Feeling the water, Dean practically dumped him into the tub. "Let me get this straight. I can rip trees out of the ground, take a lighting bolt in the chest, survive fire... and you think I'd be in more danger than you from a fucking werewolf?" His volume grew as he got angrier. "Listen to me, there isn't just _one_ werewolf, it's a pack. You can't face a pack, I don't care if you're John Winchester or ten of him, you can't." 

In contrast to his angry words, he gently sponged the sand off Sam's face, taking care not to press hard where the scratches marred his cheek. The only reason the scent of Sam's blood wasn't getting to him as much as it otherwise would was that Dean's mind was obsessing over something else at the moment. "It's not Jacob, or Sam Uley... I know those two, so who the fuck is it." 

Sam quirked a brow at him, "Obviously, you've never met my father, or even heard of him," Sam nodded, "Because yeah, he could. Trust me. I know. And secondly, I'm not as inept as you think I am. And third, if I told you, what are you gonna do? Go start a war? Put your family in danger?" Sam shook his head, "No way. I promised your dad I would never do anything that would put them in danger, even if that means not telling you who did this to me."

"I did not say you're inept, just ... human. If you could have killed him, don't tell me you wouldn't have. He hurt you. That girl, it's her brother, isn't it," Dean nodded. He'd get the name, with or without Sam's cooperation. His eyes flashed black, and his teeth started to ache. "I'll call you in the morning," he said, walking backwards the two steps it took him to reach the door. "Close your window tonight."

"What!?" Sam turned around in the tub, reached out and grabbed hold of Dean's jacket, "No! Don't go! You can't leave!" Sam told him, eyes wide. "I need you here. With me." Still holding onto Dean's jacket, Sam climbed out of the tub, stepping over to him, standing toe to toe with him. "Stay with me," Sam asked him, softly, hazel gazing into Dean's black eyes, "please."

"Sam," he tilted his head to the side. "I'll come back." Pulling a towel off the rack, he held it out, "I'll be back, I swear. Just... go to bed and rest. I... you know how it is with me. Cat," he tried to inject some humor into a very dark situation.

Sam shook his head. "No. Cat's gonna have to stay here. Please." he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Dean, "I don't want you to leave. Not tonight. Not now." Sam told him, "And I'm not afraid of you. We'll be fine."

Dean opened his mouth to protest. To ask if this was some trick to keep him from that bastard who'd ... A part of him really believed it was, but another part of him felt guilty as hell. He'd abandoned Sam. He hadn't even taken his calls, thinking that if he said he couldn't go to La Push, then Sam would miss out on his fun. This was partly his fault. 

Letting out a deep breath, he wrapped his arms around Sam's steaming body. "Alright. I'm gonna stay. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm real sorry, Sam" he said, stroking the taller boy's hair as he walked him into the room. 

Sam let Dean lead him from the bathroom back into his room, sitting on the bed when they reached it. Sam grinned up at Dean, "I drank a whole bottle of Jack." he told him before shaking his head chuckling. "Wow am I gonna pay for that tomorrow. I'm kind of a light weight when it comes to drinking." Sam's smile fell, "That was the only reason I didn't stab Trevor, by the way. I couldn't seem to make my ankle get close enough to my hand at the time." He chuckled and rolled his eyes.

 _Trevor_. Dean's eyes flashed. It took every bit of his control to stop himself from launching out that window and going after the werewolf right then. Having learned where Sam's clothes were, he grabbed a pair of boxers from the drawer, and once Sam had them on, waited for him to get a tee shirt on. That was when he saw more marks on Sam. His back was scraped by sand. "Sonova." Snapping his eyes closed for a minute, he strode to the bed and sat down. 

"Let me go and come back, Sam," he whispered, not looking at him.

Sam pulled his tee over his head and looked at Dean, "No." he reached over and laid his hand on Dean's. "I thought we had this settled? What's the matter?"

"Where the fuck should I start?" Impatient, and knowing he wasn't gonna win this argument, he simply pulled Sam into his arms, and tugged the blanket over them. "I can smell your blood, I can practically taste it... and the only reason I can stand it right now, the only reason you're not bleeding in my arms because of me is there's someone else I want to tear the fuck apart." Feeling Sam's large body practically covering him, he had the suspicion it was Sam's way of trapping him, making sure he didn't leave once Sam fell asleep. Sighing, he closed his arms around Sam, holding him painfully close.

Distributing his body weight, the way his father had taught him to hold someone down, Sam lowered his head innocently to the pillow as though this wasn't a way to keep tabs on Dean. Sure he might be stronger, but Sam was a light sleeper, he'd know if Dean tried to move him. 

Sam sighed softly, closing his eyes. "You're cute when you’re mad," Sam teased him, smiling softly. Before Dean could get irate that Sam was actually making jokes, he moved his head forward, placing a soft quick kiss on Dean's lips. "Shshsh, I love you. Relax."

Stiff as cardboard, Dean was anything but relaxed. He didn't kiss Sam back, didn't answer, he just stared at the window, trying not to breath. Hoping, hoping he could fight the urges, hoping he wouldn't let Sam down. Hoping Sam's trust wasn't misplaced. 

* * * 

It wasn't long before Sam was fast asleep. Hours ticked by and Sam barely moved, just the even rise and fall of his chest, until he suddenly started to squirm on Dean, muttering incoherently in his sleep. 

Sam rolled away from him then, onto his back, head thrashing on the pillow, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. "No.... no... stop..." Sam head thrashed more legs moving under the blankets. A deep frown graced his face, before he bit his lip, head shaking, 'no'.

"Sam." Dean tried to hold him still and was kicked in the stomach. If Sam got a bruise on his barefoot... "Sam?" He tried again, to wake him, eyebrows furrowed with worry as he heard Sam's demands to stop. "It's a dream, a nightmare," Dean pulled him tight into his embrace, this time not allowing Sam to move or hurt himself. "Wake up Sammy, I'm here... I'm here _this time_ ," the words were bitter in his throat. "I'll always be here when you need me, please Sam. Sam?"

Sam's face contorted into a look of pain. His breaths came quicker, faster, harsh, like he was running, afraid. Suddenly Sam jerked awake and would have sat up if it weren't for the force holding him, eyes wide, a scream tore from his lips. He lay there a moment, breathing hard, as he stared up at Dean, blinking, before he swallowed and closed his eyes again, turning his face away. "Sorry," he said softly.

"You shouldn't be sorry." Dean stopped crushing him so tightly, instead cradling him now. " _You_ have nothing to be sorry about." He listened for Sam's aunt, but all was quiet. Pushing Sam's hair back, he brushed his lips lightly across his forehead. "Do you want me to get you something?"

Sam shook his head, slowly looking over at Dean. " _Those_ are the kind of dreams I have when they aren't about you."

"Werewolf dreams." Dean didn't press, not this time.

Sam quirked a brow, slowly his lips curled into a small perplexed smile before he chuckled and shook his head, "No. I wish they were werewolf dreams actually. It'd be easier. No, my dreams are much worse." He licked his lips, hazel eyes searching Dean's face. "You thought I was having a nightmare about earlier?" he quirked a brow. "Dude, I've been mauled worse than that on a good hunt."

"Sam, you are not to go hunting anymore. Or drinking. Or driving, or fucking swimming," the list grew. "Jesus." He knew he was being unreasonable. "Just say ‘yes’, just say it for now, dammit." He blew out a breath. 

Sam smiled at him, a warmth rushing over him at Dean's worry, his concern, his caring. "You're cute when you're all," Sam shook his head, brows furrowing, as he searched for the right word, "protective, too." 

"You haven't seen me protective, not yet." There was steel beneath Dean's words. If he'd been there... to hell with the treaty, there would have been one less dirty werewolf in the world. "And I'm not 'cute.' Cute is for fluffy things... not vampires. Don't look at me like that, it's true," he said gruffly. 

Sam didn't argue, only chuckled softly, "As for your list of things Sam can't do. Fine. Right this very second I won't hunt, drive, swim, or drink. Promise."

Running his hand over the contours of Sam's face, Dean nodded. "I could have lost you in so many ways last night. No parties. Add that to the list." He was quiet for a moment. "I don't know what I would do, now that I’ve found you... I don't know how I'd exist without you in the world. I don't think I could. I understand Romeo now. I know why he killed himself." 

Sam smiled softly, raising a hand to cup Dean's cheek, before letting it fall to his shoulder. His smile fell away as he thought of the next hunt, the next time his dad made him go off with him somewhere. He licked his lips as he looked at Dean, "You would be fine. Just like you were before. You know my life... what's expected of me... and I told you that one day, it would probably be what killed me." He sighed softly, "Just enjoy now. A hunter never knows how many tomorrows he has left anyway."

Dean flinched away. "Don't you fucking say that... don't you mean it." He pulled completely away, and started to get out of bed. "You said hunting isn't your life. And now you're..." 

Sam reached for Dean, grabbing his shirt. "Dean... it's not what I want to do. You know that, but I told you that it's expected of me and why. Believe me, I don't plan on dying tomorrow." he shrugged, "I'm just being realistic. One day my dad is going to walk through that door and no matter how much I bitch and moan and beg him to let me stay here, he's going to make me go with him, to hunt. To kill that thing that killed my mother, along with every other evil thing out there until we do. You know that."

"So your dad tells you to get up, and you'll just leave me. Just like that." He looked down at the hand grabbing his clothes. "I know what your friends tell you... the Cullens use people. I'm not using you Sam, you're using me. Until you have some other place to be, right? I'm your vampire boyfriend until your dad gets here and then, that's it." Shaking his hand off, he walked to the window, staring out unseeing. 

Sam threw back the covers and swung his legs off the bed, pulling to his feet. Angry steps took him over to Dean quickly as he grabbed Dean's arm, tugging him around. "NO! I am NOT using you! I fucking told you I love you! I have never said that to anyone before other than my friggin' father! I'm telling you how _he_ is and if I can't make him see reason, can't make him understand that _I_ am in love and I want to be here, that if he makes me go, and I fucking die somewhere in some dark deserted place in the middle of fucking nowhere, that you'll be okay! THATS what I'm telling you!" 

In one fluid movement, Sam was pressed up against Dean, his mouth covering Dean's, his tongue delving between Dean's lips as he kissed him hard and wrapped his arms around him.

Dean's angry retort was muffled by Sam's mouth on his. Sam should know better, but Sam clearly had a fucking death wish, moving suddenly, kissing him like this when they were in the heat of an argument. Somehow, Dean found himself kissing Sam back, hard... pushing him toward the bed one step at a time. "You're almost eighteen, you can say 'no,'" he said, between kissing, and hard gropes. "And I won't be okay, I won't..." he pushed Sam down on the bed and felt him grip his clothes, trying to pull him down. 

Sam lay back on the bed, looking up at Dean, fingers tangled in Dean's clothes, eyes pleading as he breathed heavily. He nodded, "I'll tell him. Make him understand. Help me." Sam tugged on Dean's clothes harder, as he bit his lip.

Indecision warred in his eyes. He shouldn't, he really shouldn't, but talk of losing Sam... of having to deal with that sort of loss had him needing Sam's touch. Looking around, he grabbed the blanket and tossed it over Sam, before laying down over it... on top of Sam. 

Sam moaned softly, as he wrapped his arms around Dean, his lips finding Dean's again in another hard kiss. "Don't leave me.... Don't ever stand me up again... Stop worrying so much.... Touch me." Sam told him between kisses as his hands roamed over Dean's back, fingers threading through his hair, then moving back down again, finally cupping Dean's ass and pressing Dean down against him, as Sam thrust his hips upward.

Dean groaned as their groins rubbed together. Just like in his daydream, only they weren't skin to skin. "Sam no," he reached back and broke Sam's hold, pushing his hands back down on the bed. Their eyes met and clashed. He relented... God help him against his better judgment... he relented. "Put your hands under the blanket," he demanded. "We'll try this... not promising anything Sam," he made it clear before he lowered his hips again and started to grind against Sam.

Heat flooded Dean’s system. His cock surged, pulsing and aching as he became fully aroused with just a few thrusts. He took a breath, then moved his mouth over Sam's, kissing him slowly, afraid to make any sudden moves, but unable to stop.

Sam was already turned on, aroused as soon as Dean was on him, the thrusting only intensified it, made him ache for more. He pushed back against Dean slowly, biting his lip at first, and then Dean's mouth covered his. Kissing him slow, teasing him. Sam thrust his hips harder against Dean’s as he kissed him, his hands running over as much of Dean as they could through the blanket. 

"Can't... get... enough... wanna touch you...more." Sam panted out the words between one kiss and another, finally pulling his hands out from under the blanket with a growl deep in his throat, running his hands over Dean's back slowly. "You won't hurt me."

"Dammit, Sam." He was doing everything he could to prevent himself from being over stimulated, and Sam was working against him. The hell with it, he wasn't gonna make Sam stop touching him... he'd only fight him on it again. "Alright... trying it your way. Slowly." He said slow, but when he slanted his mouth over Sam’s, he was anything but slow or gentle. He kissed him fiercely, devouring him, sliding his tongue inside his mouth and battling Sam's, feeling him from the inside to his heart's content. No holds barred... none.

Other needs built inside him. He started to grind his hips again, sharply aware of Sam's arousal pressing into him and of Sam's movements under him, trying to get some friction going between them. "Yeah... oh yeah," he groaned, moving a little harder. Praying he wouldn't lose control, that he wouldn't use too much of his strength, even when the blood was pounding in his temples and every fiber of his body was screaming for him to take Sam in every sense of the word.

Sam thrust hard against Dean, hands running over his back, fingertip digging in as he arched his back, bit his lip. "Don't stop. Oh God.." Sam panted out the words, thrust hard rhythmically against Dean, trying to get the friction he needed, wanted, craved through the blanket. He watched Dean through passion heavy eyes, raised his head up and captured Dean's mouth with his own, moaning into the kiss. 

"Dean..." Sam hissed in a breath, neck arching back as his hips moved faster, fingertips dug into Dean's back through the cotton of his tee.

Even through the blanket, Dean could feel every contour of Sam's body surging, pressing into him, seeking him out... just like he was pushing back, waves of blinding heat striking him each time he moved and met Sam half way. He knew he should slow down, that he'd started to spiral out of control, that the reason his mouth kept moving over the strong pulse at the base of Sam's throat was more than sexual excitement... he tried, Dean fucking tried. "Sam... don't move so much... Sam..."

But it was useless, they were both too far gone. The fingers digging into his back, the sounds Sam made, his demands drove Dean on. The sound of the bed hitting the wall clued him in to how hard he was fucking into Sam. "Oh God, Sam, are you alright?" Only that sharp fear had him lifting his body up, "am I hurting..." 

Sam's lips parted as he panted out his breaths, lifting his hips to meet every one of Dean's thrusts. He heard the bed hitting the wall, but he didn't care, let his great aunt hear, maybe then she wouldn't try to fix him up with every Tom, Dick and Harry. Maybe she'd understand he'd already found someone. 

Sam's grip tightened on Dean, is eyes widening momentarily in panic that Dean was actually pulling away. His head lowered as he gasped in a breath, bit his lip, watched Dean's face again, straining against him. "What!? No! No! Don't stop! Holy hell, Dean. Don't fucking stop!" Sam nearly yelled in response.

"Not stopping," Dean's voice was strained. He was holding himself up, easing the pressure he'd been placing on Sam, bearing more of his own weight now. He was trying so fucking hard not to use the full force of his strength to find the release that was building inside him, coiling low in his stomach. One of them had to be careful, and since he was the one in danger of losing it... he was the one who had to maintain his control.

Once he knew that Dean wasn't ending this, wasn't leaving them both wanting, Sam released his death grip a little, closing his eyes as he sucked in a ragged breath. "Would be.... much....easier....without all the.... fucking layers!" Sam told him, voice rising as he felt his orgasm approaching, heat coiling low in his stomach. "Dean... fuck... come with me. Fuck!" His head thrashed as he felt his balls draw up, body tensing. His neck arched as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed, grit his teeth, a growl leaving him, and then he was coming. His head lifting up off the bed, breath leaving him in a rush, before his head fell back against the bed again. His chest rose and fell fast with his panted breaths, before his body relaxed, his eyes no longer as tightly closed. Sam licked his lips, head rolling to the side as he slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Dean.

 _Easier for who?_ Dean couldn't even vocalize the question before Sam demanded he come. Watching Sam slide off the edge, thrashing and jerking under him as he came hard and wild, Dean went over with him. His back stiffened, he closed his eyes and threw his head back as Sam's name was torn from the back of his throat. A few more hard thrusts and he came as hard as Sam, only a little more _quietly_.

Meeting Sam's gaze, he kissed him lightly, then swept his mouth down toward that pulse that was driving him crazy. He licked the side of Sam's throat, felt his pulse leaping, surging into his tongue. He groaned. "Talk to me... about anything, distract me," he demanded, harshly, putting his whole mouth over Sam's pulse and sucking, his teeth dangerously close and aching.

Sam swallowed, gasped a breath, the feel of Dean's mouth on his neck, his pulse. It was far more exciting and a turn than it should be he was sure. "I - I don't know. What's it like?" Sam asked him, trying to form a coherent thought, "To be changed into a vampire?"

"That is NOT helping. Goddammit... talk to me," Dean demanded again, his mouth trembling against silky soft skin separating him from the sweet blood pulsing and rushing just under the surface. He flicked his tongue out, followed the lines of Sam's veins, invisible to the eye, but he could trace them by the sensation they caused under his tongue.

 _Just do it._ the thought echoed in his mind as he tried to think of something to say to distract Dean, but came up empty. The feel of his mouth against his neck, his tongue flicking out licking his neck... And Dean expected him to be able to think coherently enough to be able to distract him? He couldn't even distract himself. The evidence of which came in the form of his twitching and pulsing cock, though he'd come only moments ago.

Sam licked his lips, "I can't..." he swallowed, "can't think..." _Do it, Dean. Make me yours, I want you to do it._ He bit his lip, closed his eyes, turned his head further to the side, giving Dean better access to his neck. "Just do it." The whispered words, so faint they were probably only audible to a vampire fell, from Sam's lips without thought. Feeling Dean tense, Sam licked his lips, and opened his eyes. He looked to the side, toward Dean, "I want you to. I want to be yours completely, Dean, in every way. Make it so nothing can separate us. Not werewolves, not dads, nothing. I wanna be like Alice and Jasper, Emmet and Rosalie. Mark me and make me yours," he pleaded softly, "you won't hurt me, because you love me. Please. I trust you."

As Sam said all the _wrong_ words, Dean gripped Sam through the blanket, using his solid weight to completely trap the teen. His entire body tensed, his features hardened to granite as his eyes went inky black. Lips curling up, he bared his fangs... aching, no longer able to discern between hunger and the strong sexual undertones of his burning desire for Sam's blood, his very life. Aroused beyond the capacity of any human, it was as if he was on the brink of climaxing... The need for release rode Dean like a bitch. His razor sharp teeth started to penetrate soft flesh, the first taste of coppery tang driving all thoughts from his mind and swamping him with a terrible need that wouldn't be denied. 

As Dean's teeth broke the skin of Sam's neck, Sam clung to him, lips parting in a gasp before he bit his lip. Trusting Dean to do what needed doing. Believing in him, knowing he wouldn’t go too far. Loving him enough to want to be one of the things he had once hunted. _Yes..._

 _I trust you._ Sam's voice echoed in Dean’s mind. Dean couldn't explain where he found the power to break off. One minute he was as hard as a rod, grinding into Sam as he lapped the blood he craved, and the next he was slamming backwards into the table.

Eyes wide with fear, he cried out, "Sam... Sam, are you alright... Sam. I'm getting help." His eyes were still dark as he catapulted out the window to stop himself from doing more harm. 

Sam jumped at the quick, unexpected movement. Eyes wide, he lay there, staring at the open window in confusion. What had happened? What was wrong? It was okay, he had asked for this, had wanted it. And then, Dean was gone, leaving Sam with a horrible ache in his chest, in his heart. What had he done to Dean?

*

By the time Carlisle arrived, Dean had punched two trees completely loose of the soil their thick roots had burrowed into over the decades. He wanted his fists to hurt, to be bloodied up, to fucking be battered, but they showed no signs of injury.

"How long has the poison been in him?" Carlisle asked.

"A few minutes, not more than four."

"Is he already in pain?"

Dean shook his head 'no,' "he never made a sound. He's calling me." He didn't need to tell Carlisle that, the other vampire could hear him, and looking up, could see him at the window. 

Sam stood at the window, palms braced on the edge of the window sill, looking out. He had called to Dean, begged him to come back, told him he was sorry, but still, he had not returned.

"Stay here." Carlisle leaped up to the window, and jumped inside, his gaze immediately going to the hardly visible punctures on Sam's neck. They were barely scrapes. "You're not in pain?" he asked, very surprised to see Sam standing. "That's... odd." 

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "It is?" he shook his head, "Look, I'm fine. Dean, what about Dean? Is he okay? I didn't mean to..." Sam sighed, ran a hand through his hair, "I just want to see him. Please."

"He bit... cut you with his teeth, his teeth," he mused out loud. "You're sure there no burn?" He touched Sam's shoulder. Both boys looked like they were in some sort of shock, but oddly Sam was handling it better. "There's venom in our teeth, it produces great pain and paralysis in the victim. I don't understand."

Sam huffed, shook his head, "Well, I'm not..." he looked away and wasn't about to tell him that what the bite DID DO was make him feel excited...again. He looked back, "I feel fine." he told him frowning. 

_Venom?_ Sam thought about what happened when he was a baby, remembered his dad saying something about how he was immune to some things, thinking it was the demon... He wasn't going to bring that up either. "Yeah, well, maybe it just means this was meant to be. Now, can I see Dean? Can you get him to come back in here?"

"Let's clean that up first, then we'll see." Dr. Cullen gave a small smile. "You have no idea how hard it is to start to take blood and stop. Almost impossible, very few of us are able to. Let him process the fact he stopped." Following Sam to the small bathroom, he used a clean towel and warm water and soap to erase the sight and most of the scent of blood clinging to Sam. 

Sam pressed his lips together as he let Dean's dad tend to his neck, though his mind was running at a mile a minute. If Dean's bite didn't do to him what it normally did, then, did they have to worry? Maybe it was the one good thing about what the demon had done.... He thought about Dean, wondered if he was alright. He knew he was probably thinking the worst. Sam sighed, "I know Dean thinks he did something horrible, but he didn't. I asked him to. Wanted him to. It was me. My fault, I'm sorry, Dr. Cullen. I didn't mean to upset him. I just want to see him and make sure he's okay."

"He's fine. I'm glad to see you are too. I don't know how he would handle..." he slapped Sam on the back. "When you're ready, come outside. I'll talk to him." Carlisle was certain Dean wouldn't want to be in the same room where he'd taken blood. The scent of blood and... sex was thick in the air but would dissipate outside. "I hear your aunt moving around downstairs so I'll leave this way," he said walking to the window and stopping to turn and assess Sam. "You were able to... go to completion, both of you?" Seeing Sam's blank stare, he laughed. "Have sex."

Sam's eyes widened before he looked at toward his bed then back to Dr. Cullen, "I -uh, we, uh..." Sam hug his head, blushed a deep shade of crimson and ran a hand through his hair nodding. "Uh, yeah..." he slowly raised his head and looked at Dr. Cullen, "Why?" 

"Amazing. You're not injured in any way." It was so hard for humans to understand. "He lost control of his emotions outside and destroyed some of your trees. It's difficult to both restrain yourself and have sex as I'm sure you realize. The consequences... I'm glad you're alright," he repeated, and then he was out the window talking to his son on the driveway.

Sam frowned at the empty spot where Dr. Cullen had been only seconds before. With a sigh, Sam turned and headed toward his bedroom door then stopped, and went back to grab his jeans, slid them on. No use making this any harder on Dean than it needed to be, after all, he didn't _do_ anything wrong. It had all been Sam. 

Throwing his bedroom door open, Sam descended the stairs and went to the front door and slipped quietly outside. Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he walked toward Dean and Dr. Cullen. "Everything okay?" Sam asked nervously, hazel eyes darting from Dean to his dad and back.

"It will be." Dr. Cullen looked at Dean. "I'll see you later," and headed out, blurring away the minute his feet touched the sidewalk.

Dean was sitting, leaning on his car, looking paler and more withdrawn than usual. "I could be making funeral arrangements for you right now, Sam," he said in a thick, emotion-laden voice. All the possible consequences of his thoughtless actions weighing on him.

Sam huffed, "But you aren't. You stopped. I'm fine. I knew I would be, Dean. That's what I've been trying to tell you all along." He shook his head as he walked over to Dean, standing before him, "You would never hurt me. I trust you." 

"You're dangerous, to yourself," he answered, leaning back, afraid to close the gap between them. "I don't trust me. STOP trusting me." 

Sam frowned at him, shaking his head, "No, Dean. I won't. I'm not going to stop trusting you, stop believing in you or stop loving you. I'm fine. Look at me. Do you see me dying? Huh? Do I look dead to you? No. I'm FINE. Now, stop acting like you did something wrong. You didn't. _I_ did. I pushed too hard too fast. And I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

Dean's gaze slid to the side of Sam's throat, then snapped back. "The webcams are safer," he agreed. "You want me to wait while you get breakfast?" The conversation was at an end, it had to be. 

Sam hung his head. He didn't argue about the webcams, he had done this. Messed up and made them take ten steps backward... he could wait. Wait until Dean felt like he was ready again. Slowly he nodded, "Yeah, I'll uh, I'll be right back." he told him softly, turning to head back into the house.

Letting out a sigh of relief when Sam left him, Dean went to sit in his car. It was still hella early, and Cathleen would probably be pulling out any minute. He moved his own car to the street and rested his head on the steering wheel.

An hour later, they arrived at school. The drive over had been a bit awkward, with him hardly communicating. They were early, but he didn't stick around to talk, sending Sam on in. He waited exactly until the school bell rang, then he pulled out of that lot, tires screeching.

* * *

Sam stood leaning against one of the pillars outside of the front doors of the school looking miserable as he gazed out at the parking lot. Dean hadn't been in third period, hadn't been at lunch, in fact, as far as Sam knew, he had simply dropped him off that morning and left. Fuck! 

He knew he had screwed up, knew he'd screwed up bad, but he hadn't thought it was this bad. That it had made Dean not even want to be near him, around him anymore. With a sigh, Sam readjusted his backpack, and raised one foot, back against the pillar, knee bent as he tilted his head back letting it knock against the pillar a couple times, eyes closed. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." he mumbled to himself.

Still waiting for Jasper and Rosalie, Alice left Emmet in his car and strolled over to where Sam still looked extremely unhappy, just as he had at lunch. "Actually, Dean's too smart for himself," she said, trying not to startle Sam.

Sam lifted his head and opened his eyes looking over at her. "Hi, Alice. I guess you heard, huh? How badly I screwed up?" he sighed, hung his head, shaking it. "I never meant to hurt him." slowly he raised his head to look at he, "I just want us to... I want what you guys have," he told her nodding toward Emmet. He shrugged and grinned slightly, "Well, what you and Jasper have I mean."

She gave him a small smile. "No, I hadn't heard, but I can imagine." Her gaze flicked to the end of the parking lot where Sam's car was usually parked, and seeing it empty, she figured he'd ridden with Dean. It was unlike her brother to leave him stranded without making other arrangements. “He's probably somewhere getting a hold of himself or maybe feeding," she said in a lowered voice. "Give him time."

Sam pressed his lips together, his eyes intent on her face for a moment before he bowed his head, nodding. "Yeah... okay."

"I'll go bring your car. He wouldn't like it if I drove--" She smiled suddenly. "There's your ride. See you later, Sam." She headed away just as the Lamborghini pulled up and stopped in front of them.

Dean leaned to the passenger side and opened the door, ignoring the cars beeping behind him. "You coming?"

Sam glanced over his shoulder toward Alice, then back at Dean in confusion. Slowly he stepped forward and opened the door, sliding his backpack off as he slid into the seat, closing the door after himself. 

Sam looked over at Dean, frowning. "Where were you today? I told you I was sorry. I know I fucked up, okay? You can stop punishing me now, I get it."

Dean frowned. "I don't play games like that, you should know that." The honking started to irritate him. He threw the car into gear and drove out of the lot. Turning around the block and heading to the baseball field where they met up a few nights ago, he parked, and turned to face Sam again. 

"What, exactly are _you_ apologizing for?"

Sam frowned at him, "For - for pushing you into something you're not ready for. For making you feel bad. For, being an ass. I knew better than to ask you for that. I knew it was going to freak you out, but..." he sighed, ran a hand through his hair as he hung his heads. Sam looked back up at Dean quickly, lips parted, "Wait! You didn't say where you were. Is something wrong? Did something happen? You're not beating yourself up for my being stupid are you?"

Giving an annoyed shake of his head, Dean ignored the questions. "Did you do it to be an ass? Or... you know, couldn't help it because we were hot and heavy?" He knew the answer.

Sam huffed, "I did it because I wanted it....I wanted it more than anything, and in that moment with your mouth on my neck and..." Sam looked down, shook his head, "It doesn't matter. It hurt you, and I'm sorry,” he looked up again, "Now, where were you?"

"So you're apologizing for being human," Dean said softly. "Don't ever apologize for that again. Look, you couldn't help wanting it anymore than I could help wanting it. I wasn't angry, just... You haven't seen a human in pain from our venom. I thought you might die," he raised his hand, "and don't start that shit about how I could never hurt you... I wouldn't do it intentionally, but any betting man could tell you the chances of this coming out good aren't worth betting on."

Sam didn't say anything to Dean about the bite. Didn't remind him it was nothing more than a scratch you couldn't even see now. Didn't remind him that he wasn't in any pain from it, nor did he mention that he didn't care about pain, not when it hurt him more to think Dean was mad at him... that he had pushed him away again. Instead he let Dean talk, get out what he wanted to say, he was waiting on answers of his own, and he wasn't going to say anything else at all, until Dean told him where he was. 

Dean felt Sam's steady gaze and knew the meaning of that stubborn tilt of his jaw. "I went after Trevor."  
Sam's eyes widened as he gasped, turning more in his seat and nearly standing up in the car, his head hit the roof before he sat back down. "You did WHAT!?! Dean! No! Tell me nothing happened! Tell me you didn't start something! Holy fuck!" he ran his hand through his hair.

"Nothing happened. He's supposedly out of state for awhile, at least that's what they told us. I went with Carlisle. We didn't enter res territory, we called out their council." He made face at the memory of the scent of the two werewolves that had accompanied a couple of the elders. "Basically told them if they don't control Trevor, we will." Although Dean's eyes had reverted to golden green, there was a steely glint in them.

Sam sighed, "Dean..." he shook his head, "I was fine. He didn't hurt me, I took care of myself. I'm a big boy, okay? Just... stay out of it." Sam's head hung, "Not like I plan on going around there anymore anyway."

Dean pointed at him. "Gonna hold you to that." Then he smirked, "yeah... you're big, stop showing off. Do you want me to get you home now, or..."

Sam raised an eyebrow as he looked up at Dean, "Or?" he asked him, tilting his head to the side. 

"Movie? Dinner... I bet you haven't eaten. Contrary to what you might think, you are not a vampire," he managed a grin. "But if you have homework or need to get home, I can drop you off." 

Sam smiled, nodding. "We can do something. I have a little homework, but it's easy. I can do it later," he shrugged, leaning back in the seat, "And no," he shook his head, "I didn't eat lunch, I was too upset to eat. But, with all the food my great aunt is feeding me, I don't think a skipped meal will kill me," he said, patting his stomach with one hand, before letting his hand fall to his lap, "What would you like to do?"

"No, _something else_ is more likely to kill you. Dark humor," he quickly added in response to the look Sam threw him. "I'm a movie buff. Remind me to point the web cam at my shelves tonight and you'll see my collection. Not a whole lot else to do in town, unless you want to go to the city," he shrugged.

Sam raised his brows, "The city?" he chuckled, "You gonna take me to the big city?" Sam shook his head, "No, a movie is fine." 

"Movie it is." His gaze dropped to Sam's mouth, but he didn't act on his instincts. "Seat belt." Reminding him, he took off.

* * *

Dean made sure Sam got a hot dog, which on second thought wasn't such a great idea since Sam made him taste it. Then he made him taste the damned popcorn. He cried 'mercy' before Sam tried to get him to take a sip of that bubbly mess he called a soda. 

They'd gotten to the theater early, even for the early show, and had talked quite a bit since hardly anyone was around. The awkwardness that had developed between them in the morning seemed to slowly melt away, and for that, Dean was grateful.

A serious thought struck Dean and he touched Sam on the arm. "Carlisle can't figure out why you weren't pain. There something you want to tell me?" he asked, holding Sam's gaze.

Sam pressed his lips together and shook his head, "Na-uh." he looked silently at Dean for a moment. There was no way in hell he was ever telling anyone that a fucking _demon_ had bled into his mouth as a baby. Not even his vampire boyfriend. No way. "Why?"

"Just trying to figure out what happened." Had it been a fluke? Was Sam different? Had something dampened his venom? Unsolved mysteries are almost as bad as not being able to read your mind."

Sam chuckled as he reached for his soda bringing the straw to his lips, he shrugged, straw against his bottom lip. "I think you'll survive," he told Dean, reaching over and patting his hand as his lips wrapped around the straw. Sam pulled his hand back, his eyes going to the screen before them as previews played. He sucked on the straw, drinking his soda, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Dean. 

Seeing Dean watching him, Sam swallowed once more, his lips releasing the straw, he pulled the drink away, "What!?"

"Read my mind," Dean answered, giving a wry smile and forcing his gaze to the screen. 

Sam quirked a brow, "Read your..." he huffed and shook his head. "Whatever dude, I'm just innocently drinking my drink here," he muttered, taking the straw into his mouth again, holding it lightly between his teeth as he looked over at Dean, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smirk.

"Bitch." His gaze wandered back, this time openly watching the maddening motions of Sam's mouth and the convulsions of his throat. Yeah... he was looking forward to some webcam action tonight. 

Sam chuckled, tongue darting out to hold the straw in place as he laughed softly, "Jerk." 

Sam finally put the soda down and sat back, long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. With a sigh, he looked back over at Dean just as the lights lowered. "Kiss me." Sam whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean leaned in very carefully, and kissed Sam's cheek, chuckling as he pulled back. "Satisfied?" Carlisle was right, he had turned into a fucking jokester.

"Sure....GRANDMA." Sam answered, looking out of the corner of his eye at Dean and shaking his head. "That's okay, I won't get the full movie experience, but that's fine," he muttered softly, before leaning sideways toward Dean, "You know that's what you bring a date to a movie for, right? And seeing as we aren't sitting in the last row, in the corner, I figure the whole blow job things out, so, " Sam held up his hands, "but hey, that's fine, _granny_. I'll _watch_ a movie with you." Sam smirked, staring at the screen.

"Keep throwing those words around..." Dean warned, giving him a look that said he was affected. "... and I'll show you a scandalous grandma. Might even embarrass one Sam Winchester, cause see that woman there," he jutted his jaw, "she’s real tight with your great aunt." He was full of shit but hey, Sam deserved it. 

Sam looked over toward the woman Dean indicated then back at him and shrugged, shaking his head with an amused frown. "Not worried about it, granny," he teased, reaching over to pat Dean's hand, "It's okay." Slouching down in his seat, he lay his head on the seat back. "Maybe one day I'll teach you what couples do when they go watch fireworks." 

"Huh?" Licking his lips, Dean poked him. "What do they do?" He knew Sam was teasing him, but he couldn't help but ask, that's how his mind worked. "Sam?" he whispered urgently. 

Sam had his elbow on the armrest and was leaning his mouth against his closed fist, using it to cover his laughter. Clearing his throat and pulling his hand away, he glanced at Dean, "Huh? Shshsh, movie's starting." 

The movie suddenly held no interest as Dean kept waiting for an answer. 

After a minute, Sam leaned toward Dean, "They see if they can make better fireworks of their own," he whispered, before straightening again and replacing his hand against his mouth.

"I knew that," he coughed, and watched the screen for a few moments, before whispering. "How?" Dean turned his head, biting his lip at the sight of Sam's knuckles grazing his mouth. "I should never have told you about the cat thing," he grumbled. Sam was definitely wagging something in front of him to get him to pounce. 

Sam would have choked had he been drinking, instead a muffled snicker left him in a rush as his eyes widened and he slowly looked over at Dean. He only laughed harder at Dean's 'cat' comment. Shaking his head Sam looked back at the screen, slowly sobering. He licked his lips, small chuckles bubbling up out of him every so often. "One day, I'll show you."

"Whatever," he practically growled, looking back at the screen and only now realizing he had no idea what was going on in the movie. "Not that funny," he added, very aware of Sam's shaking shoulders, though he was trying to be quiet. 

From that point on, Dean made an effort to concentrate, and while he wasn't completely unsuccessful, neither was he wholly following the film. Every little movement that Sam made drew his attention. At some point, Sam started to move his leg around, and Dean put his hand on his thigh, to stop him. Right... holy crap, one touch and all he wanted to do was drag Sam outside and make him show him what he meant.

The feel of Dean touching him had Sam to fighting the urge to touch Dean... in ways that would probably have Dean jumping out of the nearest window. Instead he only put his hand on Dean's, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the screen.

Dean moved his thumb, running it back and forth over the back of Sam's hand, slowly turning to look at him. Somewhere behind them, a couple was in a liplock. Then there were the thoughts rushing through people's heads. Some wanting more sex on the screen, some wondering if they'd get some from their dates, some looking at him and Sam and wondering 'which one is the girl.' He snorted at that. "Idiots." 

Sam cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he felt Dean's thumb running along the back of his hand. He knew that this, the small touch of affection, shouldn't be turning him on like it was. He tried to concentrate on the movie, not pay attention to the slow movement of Dean's skin on his. Hearing Dean mumble something, Sam glanced over at him and raised his brows, "Hmm?"

"Hmm?" He started to sway closer. Was it just him or was the crackle of electricity between them for real? "What?" 

Sam turned his head, his full attention on Dean and no longer the movie as his eyes roamed over Dean’s facr. "I thought you... " he grinned, shook his head, "Nevermind."   
He forced himself to look away, to tear his gaze away from Dean’s and look back at the movie, just in time to see fireworks filling the screen. Sam huffed, chuckling. _Of course, it would be fireworks._ Fireworks and he had to behave. Some cosmic force hated him apparently. 

Dean didn't hesitate. "Show me." He had his hands out, just in case Sam forgot and made a sudden move, but curiosity ... a burning desire to know what Sam would do at a fireworks show... made him ask. 

Sam looked quickly over at Dean, lips parted in shock at his request. Sam shook his head, glanced at the screen then looked back at Dean, "I can't..." he pressed his lips together, frowning thoughtfully and nodded. "Um, okay... some, I can do." 

Hazel eyes intent on Dean's face, he slowly ran his fingertips down Dean's cheek, before threading them up into Dean's hair at the nape of his neck as he leaned in, his lips meeting Dean's a second after Sam closed his eyes. He licked a trail across Dean's lower lip, pressed his tongue and ran the tip of his tongue over the roof of Dean’s mouth, then his teeth, careful not to hit his fangs so Dean wouldn't worry. After his initial exploration, he plunged his tongue deeper, tangling with Dean's, before he sucked Dean's tongue into his mouth, moaning softly.

At first, Dean was tense, monitoring his own reactions closely, but then Sam deepened the kiss and drew him in. He couldn't think anymore as his tongue penetrated the moist heat of Sam's mouth. Fireworks blew up around them, and he didn't know if was on the screen or in his mind. All he knew was his mouth burned and pulsed, ached with the need to make the kiss last forever. His own hand snaked around the side of Sam's neck, holding him like Sam held him as their mouths moved furiously against each other.

Sam's free hand moved up the inside of Dean's jacket, running up Dean's side and around to caress his shirt covered chest, then lower. He sucked Dean's tongue, finally releasing it, only to follow it back into Dean's mouth, his tongue moving along every crevice, searching seeking, battling Dean's tongue. 

Sam's hand on Dean's stomach suddenly pulled back, his fingers curling into a fist, before he let his hand drop onto Dean's shoulder, a small whimper leaving him only to be swallowed up in the kiss.

Dean knew he should break off, but for the life of him, Dean couldn’t, not yet. Leaning closer, he became a bit more aggressive, dragging Sam up against his solid chest so tight he heard him lose his breath. Lifting his head, he looked into Sam's eyes. "Fireworks... I think I have it." Slanting his mouth over Sam's, he started another round of heavy kissing, sliding his tongue in and out of Sam's mouth, branding him in the only semi-safe way he could. When he finally pulled away, his hand shook slightly. "We'd better stop... or I won't." 

Sam was breathing like he'd just run laps around the football field, face flushed as he stared at Dean, for a moment breathing through parted lips. Finally, he nodded, and slowly moved to sit fully back in his seat again, making himself look at the screen, as his heart hammered in his chest and he licked his lips, still tasting Dean there. Squirming in his seat, reaching for his soda he shook it slightly side to side, then placed the straw in his mouth, sucking down the rest of what was left.

Making a frustrated sound, Dean sat back, still watching Sam. Fuck... just looking at his still parted mouth around the straw made him want to unzip his pants and push Sam's face down... feel that mouth wrapped around him. "Sam..." he sounded like he was in pain. 

Sam bit his lip, turning his head to look over at Dean, one hand moving to lay on Dean's thigh, "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just... you know. Don't wanna stop." He rubbed the back of his neck. "If you hadn't met me, and knew what... what it would be like between us, would you have avoided the whole thing? Gone somewhere else, you think?" He wouldn't blame Sam if the answer were yes.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "If I hadn't met you, I'd have taken off to find my father by now. I'm known to do that when he dumps me off." Sam chuckled as he shrugged, "But, I did meet you," he shook his head, "And I don't want to go anywhere, ever. So yeah, even if I knew what this was going to be like from the beginning... if I had a rough idea that in addition to being a vampire there'd be a whole _other_ lust issue, I wouldn’t care." 

"Even with how hard this is, you would _choose_ this?" A part of Dean couldn't believe that. "When you could have normal. When you wouldn't have to worry about your vampire boyfriend's moodswings, and whether he'd bite your finger off the next time you stuck your finger in his mouth? When you could fuck the way you want to, the way people were meant to... no barriers, no panic, no stopping?" He was getting worked up, he really should stop. Dean's hands bit into the arm rests as he tried to regain control.

Sam sighed as he turned more to face Dean, "Dean... I would choose _you_ , yeah." Sam nodded. "As for normal, dude, my life is so far from normal, I don't even know what normal is anymore." he smirked slightly then. "The moodswings, I could do without," he gave a soft chuckle, then huffed and shook his head. "The stopping, starting, meh, makes it all the more hot when we _do_ accomplish something doesn't it? Hell, who knew a kiss could be that hot!?" 

The movie ended then and people started to leave, Sam glanced up as a few walked by them, then pulled to his feet himself, "And dude, you are _so_ not the first vampire to drink my blood," Sam told him with a chuckle, as he offered Dean a hand up.

"What?!" This time, Dean's fingers closed around Sam's wrist in a vice-like grip. "Explain yourself. Now." 

Sam frowned down at him, "What, what? I said, I've had my blood taken before. I told you, my dad and I hunted a few nests." Sam shrugged, "Guess who got to be bait."

"He let you..." Dean pressed his mouth together. He realized Sam meant the other sort of vampire, but they were deadly as well. "I don't like it, the thought of anyone else tasting your blood," he growled, getting up. "That's another thing on your list of ‘things not to do,' got that?" He shook his head, "no wonder you're not worried about bloodsuckers..."

Sam shook his head and sighed, "Yeah, I'll be sure to remember the next time Dracula sends for his pint of my blood." he rolled his eyes. "Dude, it wasn't like I said, 'hey drink me'!" Sam shrugged as he walked with Dean, "There was a nest, I was bait and well, I kinda got captured..." he glanced at Dean, "It actually wasn't suppose to go that way, but," he shrugged again, "it all worked out well. The cuts healed, I'm fine, all the vamps are dead, end of story." Sam chuckled at Dean's last remark, "Told ya you didn't scare me."

"Told you _you_ scare _me._." He wondered how many more of these stories Sam had stored up. "I'm glad that vampire's dead. Anyone, anything that touches you, hurts you, should be dead." Trevor came to his mind first, but then he recalled the sweet tangy taste of Sam in his own mouth, and looked down, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked out into the parking lot.

Sam hung his head, huffed softly, as he thought of the demon. "Yeah, my dad's workin' on that." he mumbled softly, before reaching out and taking Dean's hand in his, smiling over at him, "New subject, let's talk about something else."

"Yeah... I was thinking, you might look good in armor." He squeezed Sam's hand, threading their fingers together. "But then you'd be covered with metal and I wouldn't get an eyeful now and then. Know what I'd like to do some time? I... ah... well I had another day dream when we were watching the movie." He leaned his back against his car, still holding onto Sam. "We took a shower together, and no... not in that tiny bathtub of yours." 

Sam grinned and stepped up to Dean, their bodies nearly touching, "Yeah? And what else? Keep going. Don't stop now." Sam told him as he ran his free hand up Dean's arm, hazel gazing into green/gold.

"It wasn't very long. I..." Hunger blazed in Dean’s eyes. "Don't move," he whispered thickly, pushing Sam's shirt up, his breath catching at the sight of his chiseled abs. "This is what I did." Bending, he placed his open mouth over Sam's stomach and sucked, tasting him... feeling him with his tongue, feeling him shiver slightly. 

Sam nodded, as he held still, hazel eyes following Dean's movements. As Dean bent, Sam looked down, watching him, a soft gasp passing through parted lips at the feel of Dean's open mouth against his bare stomach. Muscles under the surface of his skin rippled and flexed as Dean tormented him with his mouth and tongue. Sam couldn't help the shiver that ran through him as he tried to stand motionless for Dean, letting him do what he wanted.

"You told me you wanted me to go lower." Dean trailed his tongue down to Sam's waistband and moved his mouth back and forth from side to side. "It's better like this, than imagining it," he said, holding Sam's hips. 

As Dean trailed his mouth lower, Sam sucked in a breath, his heart beating faster. Sam bit his lip, curling his hands into fists at his sides. His cock began to pulse, lengthen and become heavy as Dean moved his mouth back and forth at the waistband of his jeans. A stifled groan left Sam at Dean's words. Oh hell, yeah, this was a lot better than imagining it. 

 

"Lower, you said. I was scared... worried, but..." Moving over Sam's jeans, Dean mouthed and kissed the now clearly visible ridge straining against the thick blue material, and looked up. I wouldn't take you in my mouth but I did this until you came. And I tasted you, like that night." 

Sam stiffened, his breaths quickening. He pressed his lips together, waiting... watched as Dean looked up at him. Needing more. Another groan leaving him at the memory of Dean licking his come from his fingers. 

Straightening, Dean brushed his mouth over Sam's. "Tell me what you're thinking." 

Sam's eyes followed Dean's movements as he pulled up. He licked his lips and took in a ragged breath. "I - I was thinking if you stayed down there any longer, you might get to taste me now. I was thinking... that that was probably the most erotic thing I've ever seen or heard." 

He slowly blew out a breath, unclenching his fists and ran a hand through his hair. Sam smiled at Dean, "I am so gonna get you back for that one." 

"I hope so," Dean smiled. "So at least I got _erotic_ down. Score!" Pumping his arm in the air, he unlocked the doors and opened Sam's before walking around to the driver's side. The wide smile never left his face.

Sam shook his head, grinning as he listened to and watched Dean. Folding himself into the car, Sam looked over at Dean as he slid behind the wheel. "Jerk."

Dean didn't argue, he was too happy.

* * *

They'd only been apart maybe fifteen minutes, but Dean had never felt as relieved as he did when he got to his room, turned his computer on and saw Sam on his bed, staring at his web cam. "If we keep this up, me keeping you from eating and sleeping, you're going to look more like one of _us_ than us." Tossing his wallet onto the table, Dean sat down and smiled. "You'd still look hot." 

Sam smiled into the web cam. "I'd blend in," he told him softly as he lay on his stomach on his bed, clad only in his boxers. He’d already removed his shoes, jeans, socks and shirt, undressing faster than he ever had in his life and had all but leapt onto the bed after turning on his computer, just waiting for Dean to show up.  
. 

Dean pulled his shirt up over his head and dropped it next to him. "You still haven't introduced me to your aunt. Are you afraid of what she'd think?" 

Sam smiled slightly and shook his head, "I don't care what anyone thinks. You wanna meet her? Next time you're over, after we finish goin' at it like monkey's, I'll take you downstairs and introduce you as the guy who keeps making my bed hit the wall." 

After a moment, his smile fell and he pushed up, palms flat on the bed making his upper body rise, head tilted back, before he let it hang down, moving it slowly from one side to the other, eyes downcast. 

Practically feeling Dean's eyes on him, he chuckled. "And before you ask, no, I'm not teasing you, I'm popping my back, or trying to." He rolled his shoulders forward, then back, grunted as his back finally popped and lowered himself back down onto the bed. "See? Better now. It's what I get for not training for weeks on end."

Dean groaned, unabashedly watching. "You're right... you should do something about that... like maybe some push ups," he waggled his brows. "And yeah, I'm leering. Can't help it when you're half naked." 

Sam grinned at the webcam. "Half naked. You wanna see it all? Strip. Completely." he chuckled, "I mean YOU. You first, then I will."

"No." Dean licked his lips. "Just pull your shorts down part way down your ass. Then push ups." Yeah, he was already hard and horny, and once the image stuck in his head, he was just... just fucking obsessed by it. "I know... completely pervy, right?" Unable to quite smile, he started unzipping his jeans.

Sam quirked a brow at him, "You're serious? Push-ups?" he licked his lips, as he pushed up to sit back on his knees, nodding. "Okay, but I'm not just pushing down my boxers." Sam told him, as he pulled from the bed, thumbs tucked into the waistband. He slid them down, letting them drop onto the floor. "I'll take them off. If we're gonna do this, let's do it righ,." he looked down at the floor. "I dunno if you can see me if I do these on the floor." He looked over at the monitor, "Bed?" he asked, before climbing back onto the mattress and getting into position.

Transfixed, Dean nodded, relieved when he could see all of Sam. "This is like porn made-to-order. Go ahead." 

Holding himself up, Sam raised his head and grinned at the camera. "My work-out obsessed boy friend," he muttered, shaking his head, before lowering himself into the first push up then pushing himself back to the position he had been in.

Watching Sam's tight ass lift up, seeing him brace his weight on those arms rippling with the strain of it, his cock clearly visible, Dean made another sound and shucked his jeans and shorts. "Not work out... you have no idea." He felt feverish, which was strange when he was usually cool. "See, I'm under you, and this time we're both naked. Skin to skin..." He moved his hand down between his legs to grasp his hardening cock. "Sam... more." 

Sam's muscles tensed at the picture Dean was describing, he hung his head and bit his lip, closing his eyes. He could feel his cock stirring to life, lengthening and thickening, even as he continued the push-ups. He swore softly, lips parting as he lifted his head.   
"You....have....no idea...how hard.... this is," Sam panted out, biting his lip again.

"How hard is it, Sam?" His fist moved up and down his shaft. "Tell me."

Sam licked his lips, let out a nervous chuckle. "Hard." He drew in a breath, "Thinking about you under me, about what we would be doing...." Sam groaned, the muscles in his arms shaking for a moment before he readjusted his hands, "Thinking about how you'd look, how you'd feel. The way you would touch me." He sucked in a ragged breath, "And...you want me... to work out." He shook his head, "You're right... you are gonna kill me."

"I dunno, Sam, sometimes I think it's the other way around. God... I need to feel you sliding over me. Need you to move harder over me, drive me crazy until I can't stand it and I grab your hips... your ass, and I drag you down and lift my hips," he did just that, lifted his hips for Sam to see. 

Sam's body shuddered, as he looked at the monitor, lips parted as he breathed heavily, though his mini-workout was hardly the cause. Moving his body, up and down, shifting his weight, Sam ground is hips against air, where Dean would be if he were indeed there. "Dean... I can't..." His arms shook, as he dragged his gaze away, closed his eyes and bit his lip. "I can just imagine how you would feel under me, how good it would be. Imagine your hands on my ass, imagine our bodies crushed together, nothing between us..." 

Sam's arms gave out and he collapsed onto the bed, hips grinding against the mattress. "I'd run my hands over you, where ever I could touch you, my mouth following after them, kissing and sucking, licking you." He gasped softly, hips gyrating against the empty bed.

"Oh God... oh fuck." Dean was already leaking pre-cum. He used it to lubricate his dick and moved his fist faster as he watched Sam fuck the mattress and imagined he was under him, imagined the growing friction between them. "Your mouth is so hot, every where it touches, I burn, I move with you... needing you everywhere. I'm so fucking hard for you Sam, if you only knew." He bit his lip as he concentrated on fucking his fist for a few strokes. 

Sam continued to thrust his hips against the mattress hard, his hands reaching up above his head to grip the headboard. Dean's words sending heat through his system, pooling low in his stomach. Pulling one hand from the head board, Sam lifted a hip, his hand going under himself to hold onto the base of his cock, to keep from coming as he panted out his breaths. “Keep going,” he pleaded.

"I think I'd roll you on your back, and it would be my turn to kiss. I'd taste you again, your stomach... like in the parking lot earlier. I'd feel you shiver under my mouth, then I'd break. I'd want to fuck you so bad, I'd lift you up and press my cock against your hole.” 

Slowly, Sam rolled over onto his back, his gaze on the monitor as he lay with his legs spread, one hand holding the base of his leaking cock, the other, he reached up and grabbed the head board again. Slowly, Sam started to stroke himself as he listened to Dean. He pressed his lips together, nodding his head. "Yeah, like the parking lot." 

“I'd beg Sam, if I had to, I'd beg you to let me inside... to let me fuck you hard." 

Sam made a choked whimpered sound, bit his lip before his head rolled, his breaths panting out. "You wouldn't... wouldn't have to beg... I'd be pressing back against you.... wanting you. Wanting to feel you." Sam swallowed, licked his lips as he looked back over at the monitor, "Do it, Dean. Fuck me hard."

"If you said that to me, I couldn't stop. Definitely wouldn't stop. I'd push inside you, trying to go slow, but God Sam, it's hard to go slow with you. You're so damned tight around me, squeezing me, and I can barely breath because I'm inside you Sam... inside you so deep it's like we're one." A deep groan welled up from the back of Dean's throat as he got closer to climaxing. He started to speak faster. "I'd pull your legs around my waist. Feel your heels digging into my back as I fucked you, but it wouldn't be enough. I'd put my arms under your back, hooking them over your shoulder so I could drag you close every time I pumped. Then I'd fuck you, really fuck you, until your bed dented your damned wall... and I wouldn't care if the whole world heard... because I need you that bad” 

Sam was listening, thrusting into his fist hard and fast and picturing ever last detail of what Dean described. His muscles were strained, he was flushed all the way down his neck and was arched it back into the pillow. Knuckles whitening on the headboard, teeth clenched as he looked at the monitor. "Jesus yes, Dean." the words were a breathless whisper torn from deep in his throat.

Dean was thrusting so hard into his fist now it was hard to talk. "I really need to come. Can't... can't think anymore. Say my name." 

His balls drawing up, heat that had swamped through him pooling hot in his belly, Sam was lost to coherent thought, muscles strained, back arched slightly off the bed. He panted out his breaths, "Dean..." barely audible, beathless, a plea. Then Sam's body jerked as he moved his hand off the headboard to grab the pillow next to him and shove it into his own face. "DEAN!" Even muffled it was a definite cry as Sam came hard and hot, spilling over his fist and onto his stomach.

Hearing his name, watching Sam fall apart, Dean exploded into his release. "I'm coming inside you Sammy, I keep coming, like it's never gonna end. I feel you wet and hot against my stomach, and I just keep going... keep going, until I collapse on top of you. Our lips touch, and I'm smiling because we did it, we did it." 

Falling back against the back of the comfortable chaise, Dean took a deep breath, still watching Sam from under heavy lidded eyes. "I forgot to say 'I love you' in there somewhere." 

Sam slowly released his death grip on the pillow smashed against his face, his hand falling back against the mattress weakly. He lay there, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath, not moving other than the rise and fall of his chest. 

He chuckled, eyes slowly opening as he turned his head and looked at the monitor, "Oh well, that's good to know." He took a breath, "It's not just my body you're after," he teased, winking at the camera.

"Definitely after your body too. Definitely." He was silent for a few minutes as he cleaned up, then looked back into the camera. "That was almost real. Have I told you that you're a genius setting this stuff up?"

Sam had leaned over the side of his bed and was cleaning himself up using a tee he had dropped on the floor at one point or another. He paused and looked at the camera grinning, "Yeah? You like?" he chuckled, as he continued to clean up, "And you claim to not like surprises. You just never had _me_ surprise you before."

Once he finished and tossed the tee into the hamper across the room, Sam lay back against the pillows and nodded. "Yeah, it was _almost_ real." He sighed softly, tearing his gaze away, "We ever really do that, we might just kill each other," he muttered before looking back, "What a way to go though, huh?" he grinned, waggling his brows.

"Black comedy, there, dude." He pointed at Sam, but chuckled. "I think we'd need really sturdy furniture. Chrome, like your car," he teased. "And soundproofing... definitely soundproofing." Thinking about the way Sam shouted into his pillow put a definite smirk on Dean's face. 

Sam quirked a brow, "Chrome? No dude, wrought iron. That stuff rocks." He shrugged, "And if we ever had a problem with spirits, I could just saw off a piece and use it to fight them off," he chuckled at that before his smile fell and he glared at Dean. "I was NOT that loud!"

"I've got delicate vampire ears," he touched them. "You were loud enough to break my eardrums. Not that I'm complaining. Just sayin... I'm pretty sure everyone heard," he looked around.

Sam's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "They all heard!? Dude! What the hell are you doing to me!" he covered his face with a hand, before letting it drop, "I have to go to school with these people!" 

He narrowed his eyes at Dean, "Yeah, I'll give you delicate vampire ears. I'll nip and lick at them until you’re the one screaming and begging for mercy. You jerk." he huffed.

"Can't wait." Laughing at Sam's discomfort, he shrugged. "I've been listening to all of them have sex for years... their turn. Not a big deal. Shouldn't you be tired from all the sexing?"

They talked for a while longer, mostly about all the parts of the movie they'd missed, trying to fill each other in. It was mostly hopeless since neither one of them had been concentrating. Dean told Sam that they'd have to sit apart the next time they went to the movies, which lead to another mock argument and threats. Eventually, he saw Sam's eyes start to get heavy and stopped talking, letting him fall asleep.

For a while, he watched Sam's face... so serene in sleep. He'd have to remember to ask whether he slept with his mouth open on purpose... just to torture his vampire lover. Yeah, that was real plausible, this being Sam. For someone who looked all innocent, the guy had a lot inside his sleeve.

Hours later, after Dean finished his part of the Romeo letters and drafted some articles, he started to hear the sounds of Sam thrashing around. The words coming from him were unintelligible, but it was clear he was having another nightmare. Dressing real fast, he grabbed a bag with some boxes in it and headed for Sam's.

*

Leaping through Sam’s window, Dean put the packages down. Of course Sam hadn't listened about keeping his windows closed, but right now it was convenient. Without hesitation, he moved to Sam’s bed, sliding his hand under the pillow to remove his pistol, before climbing in and pulling him into his arms. "Shshsh, dream about me, no more nightmares," he whispered softly, stroking Sam's back. "I'm right here, right here, Sammy." 

The dream, the nightmare, like so many others, started out with his mother dying. Only he wasn't a baby. He was grown and was watching it happen, unable to do anything to stop it. And there he was, the yellow eyed demon, standing there as his mother died, a cruel smile on his face as his blood dripped into baby Sam's mouth, watching as his mother was held against the ceiling and bled from her stomach. Promises were made that he belonged to the demon, that he was 'special', 'chosen', and Sam could only shake his head, deny that it was true, that it could ever be true, even as fire began to burn within the room. 

It was then that he heard _him_ , very softly, his voicecoming from far off, like he was talking into a Dixie-cup. Dean's voice. 

Sam struggled to reach him, to shake off the the nightmare that never left him alone, but it held him tight within it's grip, just as the demon held his mother. 

Sam whimpered, his head thrashing, face contorting in sadness and despair, before finally opened his eyes and he sucked in a ragged breath. He stared at Dean for a few moments, before it registered what he was seeing. Slowly his eyes closed, a soft sigh escaping, as he huddled closer against Dean. "Another one." he murmured softly.

"Yeah." He hugged Sam tighter, "no more, okay? I'm here now. Nothing's getting through me to you. Nothing." Realizing he was on the verge of hurting Sam, he loosened his grip. "Safe... you're safe." Safe in the arms of a vampire, now there was a joke in there somewhere. Dean kissed Sam's temple, then let him rest.

Sam gave a harsh laugh, but said nothing. Could a vampire even one like Dean fight off a demon like 'Yellow Eyes'? He didn't think so, but he wasn't going to argue. Instead, he only nodded. "Okay. Don't...don't go, okay?" Sam asked him, one hand tightening around the sleeve of Dean's jacket. 

Sam smiled softly, "Stay here and fight off my demon," he mused softly, not willing to tell just how literally he meant that, how he wished it could be true, that something could protect him from the demon that haunted him.

"Not going anywhere." Snuggling against the heat of Sam's body, Dean made the promise. How could he deny Sam? Especially when he was sleepy and vulnerable, there was no fucking way he'd leave him to fight his nightmares alone.

Sam slid back into sleep, peacefully this time, dozing in the arms of his vampire lover, content and feeling safe, if only for a little while, if only in a wish.

*

Dean looked up from the desk he was sitting at, finishing up his part of the project. The alarm had started to go and Sam was fighting off sleep to hit the snooze button, it looked like. "A bit more to the left," he drawled, "humans ..."

Sam sucked in a startled breath, his eyes opening and hand sliding under his pillow automatically as he looked over at Dean before he recognized him. Sighing softly, he reached back to turn off the alarm. "Good thing you took the gun out," he muttered, letting himself fall back against the mattress as he looked over at Dean, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Morning."

"Yeah, I wouldn't have wanted you to wake your great aunt with it." His eyes glinted with humor. "See I know I have a dangerous boyfriend and how to deal with that." He wanted Sam to wake the hell up and entertain him. "Come on sleepy head, you got lots of sleep last night. Man, you're like a furnace in bed... and I don't mean it _that_ way."

Sam chuckled, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Ten more minutes." he licked his lips, "I'll skip bathing and everyone will know what we did last night," he said with a wide grin.

Dean made a show of sniffing the air. "You smell fine... like me." 

Sam snickered softly, "You smell like cum too probably," he mumbled, rolling over. "I guess you're gonna keep talking, huh?" Sam asked as he sat up shaking his head. Pulling from the bed, he walked sleepily toward the bathroom, "Be out in a few minutes," he called over his shoulder. "After I fall back to sleep in the tub," he mumbled under his breath as he rubbed his eyes.

"No more sleeping, I'm all out of shit to do." Pushing off the chair, Dean stretched and looked out the window, a smile forming on his lips as he waited. Sam couldn't be _that_ sleepy.

Inside the bathroom, Sam sleepily looked in the mirror and after brushing his teeth, splashed his face with cool water. Reaching for the towel he dried off and started his morning routine, which after a few moments included getting his shorts off and turning on the water in the tub to fill it.

Turning toward the tub to do just that, Sam eyes widened. What the hell....? Okay, that was NOT there last night. He knew that. So, when did...? Turning his head to look toward the closed bathroom door, Sam grinned. No way. His vampire boyfriend installed showers? 

Reaching out, Sam opened the bathroom door. Leaning his stomach against the door frame he smiled at Dean, "So, at what point in being a vampire do you all take plumbing classes? Is that a required course? Or do just the ones who plan on having boyfriends with only tubs in their bathrooms take them?" he asked, brow quirked.

"Had nothing better to do," Dean gave a half shrug. "Besides, there's no way you and I would EVER fit in that tub sitting, but standing up... maybe." Remembering how he'd kissed Sam's stomach as he gave him the blow by blow of his daydream, Dean felt a warm flush steal through his system. It wasn't helping any that Sam was standing there naked, either.

Sam smiled at him, "Thank you." he licked his lips and glanced back over his shoulder at his new shower before looking at Dean again, "You wanna try it out with me?" he asked, hazel eyes raked over Dean's form. "I'll let you wash me...any where you want to," he offered, waggling his eyebrows. "If you say no to that, either I'm losing my touch and I'm not _near_ as hot as you claim or you are _much_ stronger than you think you are, seeing as I'm standing here naked." 

 

"You're really evil." Dean walked over and kissed him lightly, not touching his tempting as hell flesh. "And there isn't enough time, but I'll... dry you, when you come out." He didn't stay in the room though, he followed Sam into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet seat. Through the clear shower curtains, he could see Sam wash up. "Just think of it as 'live web cam,'" Dean grinned and waved Sam inside.

Sam smirked at him, "You and that webcam. I've become your personal porn star, haven't I?" he shook his head as he stepped inside the tub and started to wash, letting his hands linger in certain areas longer than necessary as he watched Dean watch him through hooded eyes. Finally he reached for the shampoo and started washing his hair. "Well, if I ever need some fast cash, I know what job to look into," he chuckled as he tilted his head back to rinse his hair, eyes closed, lips parted.

"Fine... but I better be your only customer," Dean growled lightly, transfixed by Sam's every move. Every time he wanted to tell Sam to do something, soap himself slower, it was as if Sam read his mind and no words had to be exchanged. He leaned back as Sam reached up to wash his hair, and he got a full length view from the side. The curve of Sam's ass, his long legs, his cock jutting out only slightly. One touch, and Dean knew he'd be hard... so fucking hard for him. His gaze traveled back to Sam's face, lingering on his parted lips and the column of his throat as he rinsed. 

Bring his head down, Sam stepped forward and pushed his hair back from his face. He reached to turn off the water now that he had finished washing and slid open the curtain, grabbing the towel he dried his hair with it, before looking up again. "I believe the rest of the job is yours." he told Dean, holding the damp towel out to him as he stood in the tub, water dripping down his naked body.

Dean cleared his throat and took the towel. Threading it behind Sam, he pulled slightly, bring Sam's steaming body closer as he dried his back. His jaw tightened when he reached Sam's ass and moved the towel over it, parting his cheeks to dry him. 

Sam stood, hands at his sides a grin on his face as his eyes locked on Dean's, watching him as he dried his back, moving the towel downward. Sam quirked a brow at him as he lingered at drying his ass. Licked his lips and tore his eyes away from Dean's face, looking away. 

Dean couldn't help it, couldn't fight the rush of need flooding him. "Don't move." Inching forward, he licked water droplets off Sam's chest, dragging his tongue downward as he bent to dry the back of Sam's thighs.

Sam looked up again as Dean spoke, stepped forward, his breath catching as Dean started to lick his chest and downward. Hands curled into fists as he tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling, biting his lip. "There is no possible way." Sam muttered softly, "No way."

"Find a way, I do it every day... every hour..." The rest was muffled as Dean pressed his mouth down over Sam's stomach, feeling him shudder and squirm slightly. Using both hands, he brought the towel between Sam's ankles, and started to dry his way upwards, sucking harder as he passed the inner part of his knees.

Sam swallowed hard, his breath's shaky, ragged as his body responded to Dean's mouth on his stomach, shuddering involuntarily. He shifted his weight, cleared his throat nervously. Blowing out a breath, Sam shook his head, "No," his voice was husky, soft. "I mean, there's no way you're a virgin. No way, you don't know _exactly_ what you're doing to me," he swallowed again, licked his lips.

"Oh." Dean looked down for a moment and brought the towel up to dry the front of Sam's thighs. "In theory I know you'd like it if I went lower, if my _mouth_ was on you instead of this ..." He used the towel to dry Sam's cock, allowing only his thumb to touch skin. Even that was too much. Groaning, he laid a hard kiss right below Sam's belly button and abruptly stood. "I used to only have to worry about blood lust."

Dropping the towel onto the sink, he walked out into the bigger room, seeking the safety of _his corner_ at the chair near the window.

Stepping out of the tub and half aroused, Sam reached for his clean boxers and slid them on, before bracing his hands on the counter of the sink, head bowed for a moment. With a deep breath, Sam he pushed away and walked into his bedroom. "Just blood lust, huh? And now you want my body?" Sam asked him with a grin as he teasingly rubbed his hands up his sides before bending to reach for the bottom drawer of his dresser and his jeans inside. 

"Probably best if I just settled for your soul, hmm? It would make everything easier." There was no greater truth but Dean was a realist, and there was no fucking way he could stop touching and stealing little bits of heaven even if it left him tortured with need. Like now, when he was bending over, "Jesus, Sam," he tried to drag his gaze away.

Pausing with a pair of Jeans in hand, Sam placed his other hand against the dresser drawer and closed his eyes. He didn't say that. Dean didn't just say _soul_. Slowly, Sam opened his eyes and looked back just as Dean whined at him. 

He pulled up to his full height, frown still on his face as he looked at Dean. "Don't say that. Not even in joking, okay?" Sam shook his head as he pulled on one pant leg. "You wouldn't want _my_ soul anyway," he muttered as he finished pulling his jeans on and fastened them, turning to grab a tee. A tight light green one that brought out the hazel of his eyes, and pulled it over his head.

"Say what? Why?" For the life of him, Dean didn't know what he'd said wrong. "You don't think Romeo wanted Juliet body and soul? Damn, I might have to rewrite again," he started to reach for the stack of homework he'd done and left for Sam on the table.

Sam reached out, grabbing Dean's wrist. "No, I'm sure that it's... " he sighed, closed his eyes briefly before looking at him again, "I'm sure that Romeo did want Juliet, body and soul." he released Dean's wrist, turned to step over to his bed, grabbing his socks.   
"She's not me though," he said with a sigh, as he sat down, put his socks on, once he finished, he looked back at Dean, "And you definitely don't want my soul. You can have my body all you want and you already have my heart," he shook his head, "Don't ask for my soul though, it's not worth asking for," Sam told him as he grabbed his shoes.

"Sam, I'm sure you have a perfect soul. I'll bet it shines bright in the sun, since you like sparkly things," he would have laughed if Sam didn't look so damned serious. "Edward thinks _we_ don't have souls, or we're damned. I think like Carlisle... everyone is judged separately. The bar moves up and down depending on what you're faced with, what burdens you're given." He gave Sam a piercing stare, waiting on an explanation. 

Finished putting on his shoes, Sam pulled to his feet. "Well, I hope you're right for your sake," he gave Dean a forced smile then looked over at th night stand then his dresser then his desk. "Me, I know where I'm going when I die," he frowned, "Where's my damn wallet?"

"Am I gonna have to beg?" Giving him a piercing stare, Dean walked up to him and handed him the wallet he'd left on the table. "Tell me why you think that."

Sam nodded and smiled at Dean, taking his wallet and tucking it into his back pocket, "Thanks. And murderers go to hell, Dean. I've killed a hell of a lot more than you, and I didn't do it to eat, to survive. I killed because they were what I saw as evil." he shrugged, "But what if I was wrong? What if they were like you? What if it was just what I thought?"

"I think you're wrong about yourself. But if you're right, maybe we're both damned. You don't think vampires hunt and kill for sport? Cat... remember." He could tell from the Sam's expression that this wasn't the time to talk. Besides, Carlisle was a helluva lot better than him when it came to this kind of stuff. Maybe one day he'd get them together on it. 

Sam sighed as he looked at Dean, "I doubt you'd go to hell, Dean. I think it takes someone much worse than you. I have... other reasons. I'll tell you about them someday, maybe..." Sam said as he turned and headed for his room door and out, heading down the stairs.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean was leaning as far back from the spoonful of cereal Sam was shoving toward his mouth. Lips pressed together, he shook his head 'no.' What the hell... what made Sam think there was a single edible thing that he was going to actually enjoy? Or was it a form of torture? His eyes narrowed. 

"Dude! It's Lucky Charms!" Sam told him, like that was going to make a difference. "It's magically delicious." Chuckling, he started to 'drive' the spoonful around in the air near Dean's face, making engine noises as he did. "Come on, open up..."

"Uh uh." The answer didn't come out clear since Dean still wouldn't open. He put his hand out against Sam's chest, trying to keep him away but more than conscious of the fact he shouldn't push him.

"Aw, come on." Sam pouted, giving Dean a deflated, sad look. "Pleeeease!?!? For meeee?" Sam tapped the spoon against Dean's bottom lip, backed the spoon up and did it again. "Beep, beep."

Dean gritted his teeth, then opened ever so slightly, just enough to take one piece of cereal and a bit of disgusting cow liquid. Pulling away, he made a face as he swallowed. "Fucking gross. I should be happy you're _not_ what you eat."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Dude, the look on your face is priceless. Oh, man, Lucky Charms is the breakfast of champions. I've eaten this since..." Sam blinked, "Well, since like _forever_. It's good stuff!" he huffed, "Not what you eat.... I'd love to be a Lucky Charm!"

"Jerk." Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Dean threatened, "one day I'm gonna make you eat raw meat or have a blood-shake or something." His eyes dropped to the sheet of paper on the table with a note for Sam, and he stretched to get it.

Sam stopped laughing abruptly at the mention of a blood-shake. His face fell, and he quickly averted his eyes to his bowl, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth. Not going there. Not even going to think about it. Wouldn't it freak Dean out to know that his supposed 'normal' boyfriend had drank blood... and not just any blood, demon blood. Sam huffed, as he thought about it. Yeah, Dean would call him the freak he was and probably run as far away from him as he possibly could. 

Seeing a slip of paper there in Dean’s hand, Sam dropped his spoon in the bowl. "What is it? Is it from my aunt? She want to take me shopping?" Sam sighed, shook his head. "I'm so not going."

As he read, Dean's expression turned hard. "Got one thing right, you're _not_ going." He shoved the paper toward Sam, and gave him a piercing stare.

Sam frowned at the look on Dean's face as he read. "Huh?" Sam quirked a brow, taking the paper as it was shoved toward him and reading it. 'Sam, I told Grandpa Wells you would tutor Kim in Math on Tuesdays and Wednesdays after school. Just go to their place on the Res. I thought it was the least you could do for a family friend.' Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair as he nodded, his face grim. "Yeah... I am," he said as he looked back up at Dean.

"You're not fucking going, Sam..." he growled, slapping his hand loudly onto the table. "You're not going there, you're not seeing her or her brother. I won't have it."

Sam looked at Dean with wide eyes, "Uh, what? You won't _have it_?" Frowning, he pushed up from the table, taking his bowl to the sink and rinsing it out, before he turned and leaned against the counter, hands braced behind him on the counter top. "Look, I understand that the Res. isn't somewhere I need to be with Trevor running around, but my great aunt wants me to do this and I'm gonna do it." He shrugged, "You and I can just meet afterwards. It's no big deal. And I'm not _seeing_ her, Dean. If you read, it says tutor. Not screw."

In two strides, he was in Sam's face. "I don't care what your aunt wants, you're not putting your life in danger. I can't stand that... I won't Sam, if I have to fucking lock you up," he pressed a hard finger into Sam's chest, "I will, but you're not doing this. I get you're a hunter, I get you can whip ass... I do, but I'm not gonna stand here and let you get near a werewolf without me there. No fucking way. Not ever."

Sam raised his head slightly, his chin held at a stubborn angle. "Dean..." he shook his head, "You can't protect me from everything. There are some things _even you_ can't control. And yeah, I have to. Did you read what she wrote? That's parent speak for, 'Do this or I'll be pissed at you and make your life a living hell', now maybe it's just me, but I don't think we need that happening, so yeah, for two hours out of my day on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I'll be teaching some chick math."

"The fuck you will." Dean grabbed him by the jacket. "Listen to me..." he felt blood his pressure rise and his eyes go dark, released Sam abruptly and walked to the other end of the room, swinging around. "Did you lose your mind? Are you insane," he shouted. "That guy held your head under water. He could have killed you. And you're going to waltz on his land... get into his territory... what the hell are you thinking. No, you're not thinking, _that's_ the problem here. You're not going Sam, you're not."

Sam barely moved as Dean grabbed him, only his eyes followed Dean's movements, and then Dean was across the room yelling and ranting. Sam sighed and pushed away from the counter taking a couple steps forward toward Dean, crossing his arms over his chest. 

He licked his lips and tilted his head to the side, "Look, I get it, I do. But, what am I suppose to tell my aunt? 'Sorry, I can't go, Trevor tried to kill me in a jealous rage cause I'm not his, I'm Dean's and he could smell that we had been screwing around and well, yeah, he's a danger to me, so sorry. Thanks just the same though, Aunt Cathleen.' Sam gave a fake smile during his little monologue, which fell abruptly when he finished it as he looked pointedly at Dean. "You know I can't do that. And you know I'll be careful. The _only_ reason Trevor got as far as he did with the whole drowning thing was cause I was smashed. I won't be drinking, Dean. I'll be stone cold sober. Totally different story."

"I'll tell her," Dean ground out. "I don't care what it takes, Sam. You hear me, I don't care what it takes."

Sam glanced down at his watch, then back at Dean, "Yeah, well, I got bad news for ya. Guess what today is. It's Wednesday. Guess where I'm supposed to be after school today." He sighed and shook his head, his arms falling to his sides as he walked toward the door. "We'll figure something out, but right now, we should get going."

"There's nothing to figure out." His eyes were hard as he kept staring at Sam, deep down knowing that nothing seemed to scare the teen. Nothing. "You go in there and I'm right there with you on the res... I don't care about their pack, I don't care about anything. I'm there." He whispered the threat, and it was a threat, because Sam needed to see how he felt... to be in his shoes, if that was what it took. 

With that, he turned and started to head for the front door.

Sam swore softly under his breath and grabbed the arm of Dean's jacket stopping him. "Wait!" he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Is there... I dunno, a library near the Res, but not on Res land? Somewhere I could meet her, but you would feel better about?....Could be there too if you want to be."

Dean gave a stiff nod, "yeah." He didn't want Sam to have anything to do with any of them... anyone related to the wolf, but this was better than the first option... "Yeah, there is."

* * *

Sam sat in the library in a back corner table by himself, his backpack on the table in front of him as he leaned back in his chair watching the door for Kim to show up. He had driven to school alone in the morning, following Dean. From school, he’d called Kim's house and left a message with her Grandfather that he would meet her at the library instead of her place. The old man had been very thankful for Sam’s help and with as many ‘thank yous’ as he’d said, Sam couldn't help but feel a little glad he had insisted on doing this despite Dean's disapproval. He was a grown man and he could damn well take care of himself. Sure he had gotten into trouble before, but he'd been drunk and even then, he'd managed to get out of it. 

Sam smiled as he watched Kim walk in. She was a short tiny girl with long black hair and a pretty, kind face, slim body and a grace that was... well, now Sam thought might be supernatural. "Hey!" he greeted her as he stood when she approached. 

She didn't quite meet his gaze, looking at the floor instead as she sat down, causing Sam to frown, but he took his seat and pulled out his math book. "So, what exactly are you having problems with?" he asked her.

She wanted to warn him. Wanted to plead with him to go away, to not have anything to do with her, to get out of Forks... anything, but she couldn't. She couldn't because Trevor could be around. He was the one that had put it into her grandfather's head that Sam could tutor her. She knew there was a reason, and she knew her brother felt like he owned the nice, too-tall, teenager who she'd gone out with one time. She knew it because she wore his claw marks on her back... his warning to her that Sam was his 'mate.'

Licking her lips, she gave him a small smile. "English and math. My grades have been falling." Never mind that it was because of the recent changes in her brother, now that he was one of them... a wolf. But he was different. The others didn't scare her.

"English and math," Sam smiled as he pulled out his English book too. He placed a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry we can get your grades up again," he said seeing the sad look that drew the corners of her mouth down.

"Okay. Thank you." She pulled her matching book out, and pulled out paper and a pencil. Briefly, she told him where they were in her class and what she was having problems with. Soon he was having her write some answers, re-writes to grammatically correct the sentences in the exercise in the book. After doing a couple, she started to write something that wasn't in the books. This was her chance, maybe her only one to warn him. Her heart hammered in her chest. [i]Pleased don't look around and act like I wrote anything unusual. You're in danger. My brother, he's [/i] she scratched out the 'W', [i]dangerous. He is not right in the[/i]--, her pencil dropped to the ground at the sound of Trevor's voice.

Dark eyes looked at the pair of them. Sure he'd arranged it so that Sam would be tutoring her, but he meant for Sam to be in their house, where he would get him to himself. "Move away Kim, he is not for you."

Kim immediately moved, afraid he would look at her paper. If he did... she was dead.

Sam looked up at Trevor and quirked a brow, "I'm not _for_ anyone. I was trying to teach her math and English." Sam looked back at Kim, "Come here, Kim, its okay."

She shook her head ‘no’. "We're just studying Trevor. Like you told grandfather we should."

"What are you doing off the Res?" His lips twisted into a smile. "Trying to get him for yourself?" 

Sam looked at Trevor, eyes narrowing. He drummed his fingers on the table for a second before pulling to his feet.

"No. I don't want him. He doesn't want me, Trevor," she pleaded. Sam didn't know the danger he was in, challenging her brother like that. Her grandfather wouldn't listen. No one would listen, because werewolves were supposed to be guardians, to keep their people safe. But not Trev... not him.

"Go home," Trevor ordered.

Just as the werewolf started to approach the pair, Dean walked out from between the stacks and bodily separated him from the Sam and Kim. His eyes glittered, hard, cold, black. He bared his fangs, even as Trevor did too, staring back at him. 

Sam sighed, "Dean, don't. Kim, stay there, we aren't done. Trevor, go to hell!" he bit out each sentence to each person.

"Him again." Trevor wrinkled his nose, his eyes blazing at the insult. "Has the 'cold one' bitten you yet? He will... you can't domesticate one of them."

"Get the fuck out of here," Dean snarled.

"I've marked him as mine. No one, nothing can take him away." Trevor looked at Sam. "One day you'll be under me, begging me for more... he can't give you that. You'll see." 

Sam glared at Trevor, teeth clenched, leg jumping as his hands clenched into fists and unclenched over and over again. "You don't want to go there with me, Trevor. You really don't." Sam told him quietly, hazel eyes narrowed.

"Oh yes, I want to go there with you." Feeling his body start to shake, and knowing he couldn't keep in control of his shape for long, Trevor turned and practically ran out of the library.

"He's dangerous. Ask her to show you her back. Read what she wrote, I'm going to make sure he's really gone." Dean moved with such speed, human eyes couldn't track him.

Kim was trembling so hard, it took her a few minutes to realize the Cullen boy _knew things._ Things that he couldn't know unless he was invisible or... saw inside her mind. 

Sam tore his gaze away from the library doors and looked at Kim, "I'm sorry you had to hear all that crap, Kim. You're brother's an ass. Sorry, but he is." Sam raised an eyebrow, "What did you write? What's he talking about?"

Turning the paper to him, she started putting her books away. "We can't do this. I'll just say you changed your mind. You should..." she looked around, afraid he might still be there despite what that other boy said. "... leave here."

Sam pressed his lips together as he read the paper, looking up at Kim as she spoke. "No, Kim. I'm not going to let some idiot like Trevor keep me from helping you. You need help, I'll help you... it's.... kinda what I do...helping people." he shrugged, a grin pulling at his lips. _If you only knew how I usually help people._

He folded the paper in half and looked at her shaking his head, "No, he's not running me off either. I can handle idiots like Trevor, Kim. Believe me. I can handle an awful lot actually." He gave her a gentle smile. "We'll stop for today and next week maybe you can come over to the house, I can get my aunt to make us something to eat while we study. It'll be safe there. Okay?" he asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Trevor doesn't scare me and he shouldn't scare you either. He's... confused. I actually have a boyfriend and it's certainly _not_ your brother." Sam chuckled. "I'll see you next week, okay, Kim?" he asked her giving her a wink as he released her shoulder.

She nodded, lying through her teeth. There was no way she'd put this brave boy into more danger, she liked him too much. "You shouldn't touch me," she whispered, knowing if she didn't get Sam's scent off her before she saw her brother, there might be hell to pay. The only good thing was that he wasn't spending as much time at home as he used to.

Sam sighed, nodding. "Yeah... I got it." he told her softly, head hanging. "Kim... does he... hurt you? I mean, it's just me, right?" Sam glanced back toward the doors starting to get nervous that Dean hadn't returned yet. Slowly, he looked back at Kim, waiting for her answer.

"No, but he gets very angry and one day..." Her eyes filled with tears. "He was always so gentle. Before the change. I can barely remember him like that anymore." Knowing that no one could really understand, she held the books to her chest and walked away.

Sam watched her go, sadly. He sighed softly and shook his head as he began to gather his books and papers. Maybe Dean was outside waiting for him. Maybe... hopefully...

* * * 

Sam sat on his bed in his room, listening to the cell ring as he waited for his dad to answer. Dean hadn't been outside the library, he hadn't been anywhere, and it was getting late, still there was no sign of him. 

"John Winchester." 

Sam sat up in his bed, "Dad?" 

"What's the matter, son?" 

Sam licked his lips, "Nothing. Well, something. I mean, I found something here in Forks. Werewolves. One of them... he's threatened me and well, his family claims he's dangerously off. I'm not sure what to do, Dad. The guy's Grandfather is a friend of Great aunt Cathleen's. I can't just walk up to the guy and shoot him.... I mean..." Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I've never done one of these on my own either." 

"You finished, rambling, son?" John asked him. 

Sam grinned, "Yeah." 

"Good. Calling me was the right thing. I can handle Aunt Cathleen and we can do what we need to. I'll be there." 

"Really!?" Sam asked him. 

"Boy, do you really have to ask?" 

"Thanks, Dad. I'll, uh, see you soon." 

"Alright. Sammy." 

"Bye, Dad." 

Sam closed his cell and looked out the window, pulling from the bed, he placed his cell on the night stand and walked to the window, "Where are you, Dean?" he mumbled softly, before turning to pace away.

A few seconds later, Dean dropped into the room behind Sam. "Right here." He dry scrubbed his face. "Bastard ran to the Res, and four of his pals were right there waiting. Did you talk to her."

Sam whirled around hearing Dean's voice, eyes wide. "You went to the Res.!?" he asked him, walking toward him. "What were you thinking, Dean!? You can't go to the Res., you know that!" Sam huffed, shook his head. 

"Yeah, I talked to her. I told her I could handle her moron brother and that wasn't going to get scared off by him. I also told her that next week we'd meet and study here at the house. The kid was a wreck. She told me not to touch her when I put my hand on her shoulder. She's scared of her own friggin' brother." Sam tilted his head, narrowed his eyes, "Stay out of this Dean."

"I didn't cross the line, I didn't walk on their land," he corrected Sam’s misperception. "You can handle one of them." Dean had his doubts. "How about all five of them, Sam? I probably can't, and you think you can. Your confidence scares the shit out of me. You were actually to go there to tutor her. If..." He shook his head. "Just promise me. Promise me you're not going there either."

Dean knew that wouldn't be good enough, but he could guard Sam nights and the other Cullens could keep their eyes on him during the day when he wasn't with Sam. Whether he knew it or not, Sam was going to be protected from the werewolf 24 hours a day.

Sam nodded, "Good. Don't, Dean. Don't go anywhere near there. And yeah, I can handle it." he nodded, "All five if I have to." Sam hung his head, licked his lips, "I promise I won't go there....alone." he looked up, "It's the best I can give you."

Sam knew that when his Dad arrived they'd be going to the Res., he wasn't going to lie to Dean and make a promise he knew he'd just break later. He trusted Dean and he wanted Dean to be able to trust him. Which meant he couldn't break promises.

Giving a sharp nod, Dean accepted the answer. "This is your fault.... for being so damned hot. Wonder if this is how the rest of my life is gonna be... fighting off every supernatural thing that gets drawn to you." His lips curved up. "You know how he said you were his? Do I sound like an ass when I do that?"

Sam's lips started to curve up into a grin, a small chuckle leaving him as he rolled his eyes. And then Sam froze. "Don't." Sam bit out, shook his head. "I don't want you to have to fight every supernatural thing out there. Some things out there... they aren't worth fighting for me... you're better off just letting them take what they want." Sam mumbled as he looked away. "No, you don't sound like an ass," he answered, still not looking at him.

"Stop the mystery crap and spit it out." Dean walked over and made Sam look at him. "You keep saying things like you're not worth this or that, and that's bullshit. Now tell me what makes you think otherwise." He was the best thing in Dean's life. How could he even think he had a bad soul or wasn't worth fighting for? He was kind and smart and... hell, compared to himself, he was a godamned angel.

Sam narrowed his eyes, teeth clenched, "It's just true. That's all. Demons don't stand over your crib and...." he looked away, "they just don't do that to 'normal' people, Dean."

"And what?" He jerked Sam's jacked. "And what Sam? Whatever happened. Whatever that demon did to you... to your mother, it wasn't your fucking fault. They're not good people... they're demons, you know... evil." And yeah, a vampire could easily fall into that category but he wasn't going there right now. "You were a baby, a baby Sam... there's nothing you could have done, nothing you did wrong. This is on _it_ , on the demon, not on you." He took a few heavy breaths. "Tell me... tell me."

Sam pulled away from Dean, took a step back, eyes narrowed. "You wanna know, Dean? Huh? You wanna know what kind of freak your boyfriend is? Fine!" Sam yelled at him. "That fucking demon stood over my crib and bled into my mouth! Yeah, you're not the only blood drinker here apparently." Sam huffed, shook his head at himself in disgust and looked away, "The thing said I was 'special', his 'chosen,'" he spat the words out like they tasted bad. 

Sam slowly looked back at Dean, tears in his eyes, his voice quiet, broken, "So, now you know. Run, Dean, run. Run away from the freak with the demon blood." He turned away, "hell, I would."

From a vampire's point of view, nothing Sam said was all that sickening and creepy. "You would? You'd run?" Chuckling, Dean pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his stiff frame. "Let's see... the way you ran from your blood sucking vampire boyfriend who warned you a hundred times he might kill you?" He felt Sam shaking and held him tighter. "Whatever that things said... you're _my chosen_ , now. And there's nothing wrong with you, nothing." 

Sam sniffled, "That's where you're wrong. I've got this _thing_ inside me and there's nothing I can do about it. No matter what I do, I can't scrub it out or wash it off." He drew in a shaky breath, "It's why I hunt. "Maybe if... if I help enough people, kill enough evil..." he shook his head.

Dean stroked the side of Sam's face and kissed him lightly. "There's nothing wrong with you," he said firmly, pulling away then. 

Sam wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I said I wasn't gonna do this over that anymore," he muttered, looking down at his wet hands as he wiped them on his jeans. He sat down on his bed, looking at Dean. "I called my Dad, about Trevor. He's coming. He'll be here in a couple days I think. You can meet him." 

"You sure?" Dean sat down too, wishing he could take the sadness out of Sam's eyes but knowing it had been there all his life and couldn't be erased in a single talk. "I don't mind being swept under the rug if you need to. You know, he'll know." He met Sam's eyes. "He wouldn't like this, wouldn't understand."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I know." He looked down at the floor between them and was silent for a moment before looking back up, "But, he's gonna wanna meet the guy," Sam chuckled softly before continuing, "that I stay in Forks for anyway. Might as well be now." 

He grinned as he shook his head, "I almost feel sorry for him. 'Dad, I'm staying here in Forks and not hunting.' " Sam deepened his voice almost comically, "'What?!'" his voice went back to his level, "Yeah, Dad, I'm in love... with a vampire... oh and it's a guy." Sam nearly giggled as he let himself fall back on his bed. "The man's gonna have a heart attack."

"Yeah. How Carlisle reacted," he said dryly, his eyes tracking Sam.

Sam raised his head off the bed to look at Dean, "Your Dad?..." Sam licked his lips, "He was surprised too, huh?" Sam asked, grinning, then lowered his head back to the bed, "He's obviously not your real Dad, so who is he?"

"As good as. Nah, better." He sat back and crossed his legs at the ankles. "Carlisle saved me from mine. I don't remember much, just how bad his breath stank. What it felt like to have my head bashed into a carriage wheel. What the mud tasted like... felt like when I was drowning in a puddle. And then there was Carlisle." Shaking away ancient history, he met Sam's eyes. "He wanted a companion Edward's age. Guess I was lucky."

Sam had raised his head off the bed again, leaning up on his elbows, all traces of a smile had fallen away as he listened to Dean. "I'm sorry.... but I'm glad that Dr. Cullen was there to save you." he smiled softly, "And then I got to meet you." Sam frowned thoughtfully, "Carriage wheel... how old are you?"

"Probably sixteen or seventeen then," he shrugged. "Much older now. You know what I wonder? Why didn't I hit him back. Why didn't I stop him. I don't remember even thinking it was an option."

Sam frowned, "I meant now. How old are you now, cradle robber." he rolled his eyes and grinned. Sam looked down thoughtfully, "Probably for the same reason I've never punched my Dad." He looked back up at Dean, "We get into these yelling matches, and if it was anyone else, I'd of knocked them on their ass, but not my Dad. We just keep at it, yelling and screaming until either Uncle Bobby," Sam paused, "Well, he's not _really_ my uncle, just a good friend of the family, either breaks us apart or one of us storms out of the room." 

"Some things don't change, even in almost a century," Dean said, answering Sam's question. "We don't really fight. I guess with me able to read Carlisle's mind I always know why he's saying stuff. Even if we don't agree I find it hard to get angry at him." His phone started to vibrate, and he pulled it out of his pocket, flipping it open.

"Can't this wait, I'm busy sexing up my..." Dean laughed, seeing the look on Sam's face. "Hey Alice." He went quiet and listened to her for a while. "Are you sure? Can you tell when? Ok. Thanks." He snapped the phone shut, taking great care to make sure his expression didn't change. He didn't wanna alarm Sam, and he needed to think. God he really needed to think.

Sam shook his head smiling, "Everything okay? You realize they're all gonna think that that's _all_ we do."

"You're the one who had her install the sex cams." Forcing a smile, Dean pulled the school papers over and started to shuffle through them. "Did I mention I was done with my parts? I think I can drop the whole thing off at the printers, if you're okay with it." Eyes still on the stack, he watched Sam from under his lashes. "You know how sucky the end was for Romeo and Juliet, because of their families? What do you think would have happened if he... if he killed someone in her family. Her brother, her dad... someone close. You think they'd have gotten together again? Ever?" 

Sam looked at the papers Dean handed him, a smile tugging at his lips. "I finished mine about a week ago. Go ahead, you can say it, I'm a geek." He looked through the stuff Dean had given him, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. "I dunno... I was always taught family is everything. You kill for family, you die for family. Family always comes first." he shrugged, "So, if they were taught the same way, then probably not. I mean, that's kinda brutal, don't you think? It's supposed to be about love, not killing someone in her family." He sighed and looked up from the papers, smiling. "Yeah, it's all really good." 

Dean memorized that smile even as his world pretty much went black.

* * *

Thursday was the _worst_ day in Dean's life. He'd thought hard all night Wednesday, even when they were having web cam sex, his mind working on what Alice told him. At the end, he hadn’t found another way out. None. 

He asked Alice at least three more times to look into the future, and it never changed. Bleak. Dark. Final.

It was also the _hardest_ day in Dean's life. He had to act carefree and happy and to hide the truth from Sam. That boy’s eyes saw everything. Luckily he thought of Dean as a 'moody vampire' so that helped some.

That night, Dean knew he was a selfish asshole. He knew because he stayed with Sam the whole night long. He knew because he kept him up, talked dreams and day dreams and even dry humped again with a blanket between them. And Sam was so good, he didn't bring his throat close, he didn't move fast, he exerted the type of control that someone many times his age might not be able to. All because he wanted to be close to him. All because he didn't _know._

And in the morning, he didn't insist on a shower together, even though Dean knew he wanted to make Dean's daydream come true. Both of them completely naked and close. Dean couldn't take the risk. It wasn't even just that, he'd been selfish enough as it was, he really shouldn't take anything new from Sam, not when he knew it was over between them.

At lunch on Friday, some kids made plans to meet up at night at the park. It was the first day of a three day jazz festival which would go forward rain or shine. When Sam asked him, in front of all his friends, Dean said yes. Sure he'd go with him. That he had something to do but he'd meet him at eight, on the dot.

He hated the thoughts running through other students' minds. They thought he would stand Sam up again. That Sam was better off with someone else... anyone else. That Dean would hurt him. He hated all that, but what really fucking burned him up was that they were _right_.


	13. Chapter 13

Sam made a special effort to look good for Dean that night. Dress shirt paired with Dean's favorite tee, the one he’d said was barely legal for him to wear in public because it was so damn tight. He actually tried to style his unruly hair, but mop that it was, it just curled on the ends and hung in his eyes anyway.

 

He wore nice jeans, ones he figured Dean would like cause they showed off his ass. He even thought about cologne, but Dean always said he liked the way _he_ smelled, so he skipped it. With a final glance in the mirror, Sam hurried down the stairs and out the front door.

 

Arriving at the park, Sam parked the Impala under a large weeping willow and slid from the drivers seat, the door giving a familiar creek and groan as he opened and closed it behind him.

 

"Sam!"

 

Sam looked over to find Tom waving him over and nodded, heading through the crowd toward him.

 

"Whoa, look at you all spiffy." Tom chuckled.

 

Sam raised a brow, grinning, "Spiffy?"

 

Tom shrugged, "It's as high as you rank, Winchester. Just spiffy."

 

Sam huffed and shook his head, "You only say that cause my date is better lookin' than yours."

 

The evening carried on in pretty much the same manor. Sam hanging with his friends, as he kept an eye out for Dean. But soon eight o'clock came and went and no Dean.

Sam was sitting on one of the marble half pillars gazing off toward the parking area, no longer smiling or talking to anyone come ten o'clock.

 

Tom walked up behind him and slapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay, buddy. You're better off without him anyway." he told Sam as he walked by, his arm around 'the flavor of the week'.

 

Sam frowned, but didn't answer, knowing Tom meant well, but it wasn't helping his mood any. Not at all, not when Dean was two hours late and everyone was looking at him with pity.... the same look they were giving him that night at La Push, not to mention the comments ...well, he tried to ignore those, even as they made the ache in his heart grow.

He stayed at the park for longer than was probably necessary, after all, five hours late for a date was pretty damn late. It was obvious Dean wasn't coming, but Sam had stayed and waited anyway.

 

Once Sam made it home he went straight to his room pulling off his jacket and grabbing his phone. He called Dean but there was no answer, so he left a message. This went on about twenty more times, the messages going from slightly bummed to worried, to angry to down right pissed off. 

 

That was how Sam fell asleep that night, half on and half off his bed, cell still clutched in his hand, still dressed.

 

Waking the next morning he called again, before even rolling out of the bed. Still, no answer. The message he left was sarcastic and angry.

 

He got up and went in the bathroom, took care of business and came out after his shower, and called again. The messages he left this time was teasing and dirty then angry and hostile. 

 

What the hell was going on over there? Where was Dean? Then a thought struck him and Sam's heart skipped a beat. What if he went to the Res.? What if something had happened to Dean? Sam called again, this time the message was worried, panicked and edging into horrified.

 

Finally unable to take it anymore, Sam grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He climbed into his car and headed for the one place he thought he might be able to get some answers. The Cullens.

 

Reaching the house, Sam parked the car and slid from behind the wheel. Going up to the door, he didn't bother with the door bell, instead he banged on the door with his fist. "Dean! Alice! Emmet! Rosalie! Jasper! I know one of you are in there! Open the Goddamn door!"

Inside, Esme, Alice and Jasper sat, silently looking at each other. They'd known he was on his way, it had been Emmet's turn to watch over him and he'd called. Esme looked at the magazine in her hand, but all she could think of was the anguish in that boy's voice, and see Dean's somber face as he left them.

Sam banged on the door again, "I mean it! Don't you fucking do this to me! Dean! Dean!"

Sam laid his forehead on the door, breathing heavy from screaming, his heart breaking a little more. He sniffled, only realizing then that he had tears in his eyes.

Reaching over he rang the doorbell. "Alice!...please talk to me. Tell me where he is. Is he okay? Did something happen? Alice!!!" Sam punched the door and turned storming back to his car, tugging open the door. He slid behind the wheel and revved the engine, tires squealing he tore out of the driveway. They wouldn't talk to him, there was one other Cullen who might. Sam headed for the hospital.

"I wish Dean had just turned him," Alice said, looking at the others. "I like him, and I like this new Dean."

Esme nodded, and got up. "Edward and Bella found a way."

"Dean's more stubborn than Edward."

Jasper took Alice's hand and got up. He'd make her feel better, make the weight of other people's troubles lift from her shoulders.

* * *

Sam arrived at the hospital to a messy waiting room. Apparently everyone decided they needed to see the doctor at the same time that he did. Well, bloody noses and broken bones could wait, dammit, they weren't going anywhere! But, somehow, the nurse at the welcome desk didn't see it that way and told Sam he would have to wait.

 

Sam sighed as he walked over to take a seat in the waiting room. Fine. He'd wait. He'd wait all fucking night if he had to... apparently he didn't have anywhere else to go either.

Hours later, after twilight, when Carlisle learned that Sam was still waiting for him, he walked to the waiting room. Emmet and Rosalie, who'd been watching over him from the moment Dean left town had reported he had barely slept. Now he was sprawled over a too small chair and in a deep sleep.

Reaching down, he shook Sam's shoulder. "Wake up son."

Sam jerked away, eyes wide as he looked around unfamiliar surroundings, before looking up at Dr. Cullen. He sat up quickly, pulling to his feet, "Dr. Cullen, Dean, where is he? I've looked everywhere and I've called. I went by the house and no one will talk to me. Is Dean alright? Did something happen?" Sam asked, eyes wide with panic as he gripped Carlisle's lab coat lapel.

"He's alright," Carlisle answered. "Come into my office." Sweeping his hand down, he made Sam release his deathgrip and walked out of the still crowded waiting room. Down the hall, they walked through a door, and he closed it behind them. 

Looking briefly at the wall covered with diplomas and awards, he rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry for the wait. We've had a busy day, mostly due to the festival, and I thought you would give up," he admitted.

Sam shook his head, jaw clenched. "No. But, apparently everyone is doing everything in their power to get me to," he hung his head, "Even Dean." Sam looked up at him then, "Where is he? Why won't he return my calls? Did I _do_ something? Was it something I said? I don't understand... _any_ of this."

Dr. Cullen didn't agree with his son's methods. He was one to tell things as they were, and he felt Dean should have done that. Instead, he'd made everyone promise to keep his secret, hoping that ditching Sam like this would earn him Sam's hate. Carlisle had his reservations about whether the plan would work, too, but as Dean had colorfully pointed out, 'it was his fucking business and not theirs.'

"He left. He's gone. It's nothing you did, Sam." Again, he put his hand on the shoulder of the boy who had brought happiness into the life of his youngest son. "It's the situation. He thought it over and decided it's... it's not meant to be. Wolves with sheep... sorry, that was a dumb analogy, let's try chickens and foxes."

 

Sam felt like he'd been sucker punched. His breath stolen from him as Dr. Cullen told him Dean had left, just up and left him. No warning, no talking about it, just left.

 

Sam forced his face to remain placid, not show how much he was dying inside as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He nodded, staring at the floor. "Cats and mice." he said softly. Slowly he looked up at Dr. Cullen, "th-," Sam paused, fought back emotions, nodded, "thank you for telling me. At least someone did." Sam said softly, before walking past the doctor and out the door.

Carlisle listened as the slow, leaden footsteps drew farther, then face grim, he reached for his phone.

* * *

Days slipped by, and Dean didn't know how many. He didn't even know what city he was in anymore, he just drove and stopped wherever. Right now, he was on his back, on the bed, staring at the single crack in the high ceiling of the luxurious hotel he'd checked into. It was picture perfect, except for the crack. 

He and Sam... they'd never been picture perfect. Well Sam was but...

A few days ago, right about this time, he'd probably either be sneaking into Sam's room or waiting for him to leave his great aunt so that they could do something. A lump grew in his throat even as he tried to tell himself this was how it had to be. Romeo and Juliet was NOT a happy ending. Love did NOT always save the day. And vampires weren't meant to be with humans, let alone with sons of hunters.

Sam should be with kids his age. Able to let his hormones drive him wherever... Not have to hide his boyfriend from the world, or live a freaky double life, one in the open, the other closed up in his room. Right... that's why the thought of anyone else's mouth on Sam's had his fists clenching around the blanket under him. And that's why the idea of Sam telling anyone else he loved them had fucking tears threatening to roll from his eyes.

"Sammy," he whispered huskily, just because he missed saying the name. He sniffed, then wiped his eyes. Carlisle had told him how upset Sam was, and so had Alice. He knew Sam, he knew he'd eventually turn those feelings into anger... even some of his phone messages proved it. And once he was angry enough, his pride would kick in, and he'd never look for him again. 

Happy... that's what he should be... happy. Rolling on his stomach, face in his pillow, Dean went back in time to the first moment he set eyes on Sam. He would relive every second of their time together, over and over... it would last him many lifetimes, it would have to, because he didn't have to forget, couldn't forget. "Sam..." he talked to the image in his mind.

* * *

It was Thursday, and still Sam hadn't come into the cafeteria once. The Cullens were quiet, looking at each other, feeling different degrees of guilt. 

Alice picked her styrofoam cup apart, creating a messy pile on her tray. "He's going to starve himself. Dean's going to kill us." It was true. In the short period, Sam's face had become drawn and almost gaunt. His usual quick smile was lost, and the sparkle was gone from those friendly eyes. 

"I could try to make him feel better," Jasper offered. But he was the newest to this way of existing without human blood, and most apt to slip up if he were too near and something happened. 

"Dean would kill us if you accidentally killed him," Emmet said.

"It might be better, then Dean could come home. This is just stupid," Rosalie pouted. 

"He didn't have to be such a jerk to him. He could have told him the truth." Pushing away from the others, Alice got up. "I'm going to talk to him."

"Alice, you can't tell..."

She raised a perfect brow. "Can't?" She wouldn't, not unless she felt she absolutely had to. But if that point ever came, then she wouldn't hesitate. Her brother was being an idiot, just like Edward had been. You'd think they'd learn from each others' mistakes. "See you in class," she answered Emmet and gave Jasper a smile, before leaving them.

There were a few places Sam haunted these days. He probably didn't even realize himself why he was sitting at those particular stairs outside the school. They were right in front of the empty spot in the parking lot. Dean's spot.

A friendly smile curving her lips, she headed toward him, like him, unmindful of the drizzle threatening to turn into a downpour.

Sam had sat on those same steps everyday at lunch since Dean had left him. He just couldn't be in the cafeteria, couldn't be in the same room with Dean's brothers and sisters. Couldn't see how happy they were together. Couldn't watch them move, talk, see their flawless skin, all so much like Dean's. No, he couldn't do that. He wasn't that strong. Maybe Dean was right... he was weaker than he thought he was, than his father had always lead him to believe.

 

Slowly, he looked over toward the side of the building, where the cafeteria was, and that's when he saw her walking toward him. Sam flinched, his eyes widening slightly for a moment, as he looked at her and an image of Dean slapped him in the face. Sam pulled to his feet and turned, walking away from her... and the image.

"Sam, wait." She could catch up to him easily, but she didn't. It wasn't her place. Once he disappeared into the building, she headed back.

* * *

In his room later that night, Sam slowly closed his cell. He couldn't believe it. Well, yeah, he could actually... it wasn't the first time John Winchester had said he was going to show up to something for Sam and didn't... but this... it was different. Sam had planned on begging his Dad to take him with him after they took care of Trevor. He no longer wanted to stay in Forks, no longer wanted to be there at all. Now, his Dad wasn't coming. He wasn't fucking coming! He had told Sam to 'handle it' or call Bobby. That he was too close to the demon to give up and come out there right now.

 

Sam huffed and reached back, grabbing the lamp off the night stand and threw it against the wall, watching as it shattered. Great. Just fucking great.

 

*

Trevor anxiously paced as he waited for Sam to pick up. Dammit, even now that Dean was out of the picture, the other cold ones were always near. Why the hell couldn't they go back to whatever hell they'd come from?

"Pick up," he practically yelled, reaching a tree and pacing away, then calming the instant he heard the voice on the other end. "Come see me. I can help you."

Sam had frowned at his cell when it rang, he stared at it for a few minutes before finally snatching it up, flipped it open. "Yeah?" he asked. "Who...? Trevor? How the hell did you get my number? Help me...what?" Sam asked him frowning as he pulled from his bed, looking out the window.

"Get over that asshole. Get away from his family, what else? It's what you want, isn't it?"

"I highly doubt..." Sam frowned harder, "Dean and I are fine. Why would I want to get away from him and his family?" he was lying and he knew it, but he didn't need Trevor of all people knowing anything about what was going on. "Look, I suggest you lose my number, real quick, dude. I don't want anything to do with you. You're... not my type. Sorry."

"You don't have to pretend. Everyone knows he left you. I know you're hurting, because you believed in him... I could see it in your eyes. He tricked you, mesmerized you. It's something _they_ do, and you don't even know it. I can get rid of the bad medicine ... you'll forget all about him. Meet me. Come to the res." A branch broke in his hand, a scowl marring his face at hearing the insult. His bitch would be taught a lesson.

"Look, I don't think so. I don't know that I'll be coming to the Res. anytime soon actually. Uh, my Dad is coming and well, I think I might be leaving with him anyway. But thanks anyway, have a good night."

"Sam! Wait. Fuck." He stared at the phone for a second and then redialed. "Sam, don't hang up again. Do you know you're a prisoner? That he's left you and you're still a prisoner. They follow you around all day. One of them is out there, watching your house right now. They're like snakes, vipers... secretive, do things behind your back."

Sam sighed, "Trevor, don't you have something better to do than pester me?" he leaned out the window, looking around. "And dude, there is no one out side my window, sorry. Now, good night." Sam hung up the cell again.

Trevor rang again, and again, and again until Sam picked up again. "I can find him."

Sam stood still as a statue for a second, was even pretty sure his heart had stopped for that second. He swallowed hard, "You -you can?" Sam licked his lips, nodding as he walked toward his door, grabbing his jacket. "Okay, I'll be there. La Push. In half an hour."

He shut the phone, his eyes flashing red. "Bingo."

 

* * *

"Pick up Goddamnit... pick up... Sam!" The relief in Dean's voice was palpable. "Sammy, it's Dean, listen..."

Sam paused in his selecting guns from the trunk of the Impala and frowned into the phone, "Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me." There was a long silence. Dean worked up the courage to break it. "You there? Sam?"

 

Sam dropped the gun in his hand into the duffle on the ground. "Yeah. What?"

"I'm sorry, for everything. I need you to do something for me."

Sam gave a harsh laugh, "Yeah, right. You expect me to buy into that again? You with the 'oh, sorry Sam' every time you decide to stand me up? Or this time, skip town and end it without even fucking telling me!? What do you want Dean? I have things I need to do here."

Dean wiped his hand across the table, sending the hotel books and materials to the ground. "I want you to stay right where you are. Don't move. Don't go. Just do this one thing for me."

Sam huffed, "And I just wanted you to be there when I asked you to be. But you never were. You were only there when the 'little mouse' was fun to play with. When it suited you. When you had nothing better to do. But then, just like everyone said you would, you got bored and you left." he sighed, "And you know what's saddest of all? I wouldn't listen. I even fancied us in love. But, guess that was just stupid of me. Look, I get it. I chased you and it was exciting for you and now you're bored. Fine. I know how poor Stacy feels now," he shook his head, "I just hope I wasn't as much of an ass to her as you were to me. Look, I gotta go, I'm meeting someone."

"Wait... for fuck's sake Sam, you know it's not like that... you _know_ it isn't." But wasnt that exactly what he'd wanted Sam to think when he'd set things in motion? Fear gripped him. "Even if you believe all that, you gotta know I'd never want you dead. Sam, you go to the res, and you're dead. Alice saw it... Sam you can't do this, please. Wait for your father... please."

Sam growled in anger into the phone, "Goddammit, Dean I am not the fucking inept hunter you think I am! Leave me the fuck alone! You lost the privelage of getting a damn thing from me the day you walked away and didn't even have the guts to say goodbye! I'm not your fucking bitch anymore, Dean, so fuck off!" Sam slammed the cell closed and tossed it into the open window of the Impala.

"Sam! Holy fuck, Sam." Dean started to redial, but he knew Sam too well. He'd know how to push his buttons, how to break him... and he knew that nothing would stop him now. Dammit, there was a sunny day prediction, no one in his family could stop Sam today, they'd be holed up. Fuck, fuck, fuck...

 

Sam stepped back to the trunk, wiping away angry tears from his eyes.

 

Sure, he'd agreed to go to the Res and meet with Trevor because he'd said he could find Dean, but as Sam got ready, cleaned his guns and really thought about it. Running after Dean was no better than Stacy annoying him at school, Dean had made his decision. He needed to just let it go. Not that he would tell Trevor that... this was a perfect way to take care of the towns little werewolf problem. Catch Trevor Wells when he wasn't expecting it.

* * *

Even for a Cullen, Dean was driving fast and reckless. They didn't like to wreck their cars, and knowing they'd walk away from an accident didn't change that.

"Is it one or more of them? Why the fuck... This Trevor wantd him, why does he kill him? Alice?!"

"Dean, I've been trying to see more, but I can't." She sat down on Dean's chaise longue in his room. "Sam has a gun to his head. The wolf is on his knees, he's shifted... scary but he shifts back to beg or something."

"That's impossible. Has to be a trick. How does one guy, human, have a wolf on its knees?" Even as he rejected the notion, Sam's words reverberated in his head. _I'm not the fucking inept hunter you think I am._ "Sonovabitch!" Dean exploded.

"What?"

"He's out there hunting him, that's what Sam's doing. Fuck."

"Then a girl come out, she's crying and ... Sam puts the gun down and just walks away. Then he's on the ground, there's so much blood." Alice turned around as Carlisle walked in. "what?"

"We're going after him, all of us. Downstairs, now."

"Dean, where are you? We're going to go help him," she needlessly said into the phone.

"Almost in town. Alice..."

"I know, Dean." She hung up and raced out of the room.

* * *

One blood covered hand slowly slid along the sand, Sam grit his teeth in pain at the small movement. This wasn't suppose to happen. Kim had asked, begged him not to kill her brother, and he hadn't... he'd walked away....

 

The next thing he knew was the feel of being tackled, the wind rushing out of is lungs as his body contacted hard with the earth, face in the dirt. And then there was the clawing.

 

Sam had felt the first scratch dig across his back and had growled in pain, arching back, rolling over. But that was when Trevor had really started in. Sam couldn't remember much of what he did, just the pain as skin was torn, ripped open, muscle tearing underneath. He remembered screaming in pain at first and then slowly, blessedly, he'd started to feel numb.

 

He couldn't move, just his hands and even then it wasn't huge movements, but the small amount hurt like a bitch. He remembered when Trevor took hold of his leg, shaking it like a dog would, dislocating bones and tearing more flesh. His jeans were torn, his shirt all but gone, hung in blood soaked tatters in the sand around him.

 

He lay there now, the wolf pacing around him, watching him, toying with him.

 

Sam's head rolled as he looked over at him, "Fff-," blood ran from Sam's mouth, "Finish...it!" he told him.

 

He watched as Trevor walked up onto him, standing on his chest, growling, snarling, baring his teeth, saliva dripping.

 

"Just...do....do it." Sam ground out.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)  
>  Art made for us by the awesome Shazamy.

He heard the growl get louder, saw Trevor lunge toward him and Sam was ready for it. Die hunting... it was a good way to die. But then, suddenly, Sam felt.... nothing. 

The wolf was gone.

Dean launched himself at the large wolf, the collision of their bodies sounding like thunder. He hadn't had to search at all, the scent of Sam's sweet blood had been that strong. "Fucker... bastard," he shouted, closing his fist and repeatedly slamming it into the head of the wolf he had in a choke hold. "You killed him, you fucking killed him."

They rolled on the ground, the wolf's claws ripping into him, but Dean didn't care. His reason for living was gone. It was his own fault, he'd been stupid, he'd tried to be sneaky, he hadn't told the one person he should have the whole truth... the plan, and now, just like Romeo, Sam had been the victim of the plan. 

They clashed against a tree, splitting it into two. Dean wouldn't release the wolf, not for anything. He had one last thing to do before he played Juliet and the curtains came down. He was going to kill Trevor, with his bare hands. And he didn't fucking care that the wolf was howling and would bring others like itself... that would be the perfect end.

The Cullens arrived, surrounding them. Dr. Cullen dropped down next to Sam and started taking his vitals. "Jasper, go back," he shouted, "the rest of you, handle the wolf." 

Of all of them, he was the only one that had gotten completely used to the scent of blood, and he wanted to spare them from having to fight it or succumbing to it, especially with the boy Dean had fallen for. 

Broken leg. Punctured lungs, he could tell from the wet breaths Sam was barely drawing. Cut artery. The latter was why there was so much blood. "Dean. Dean!" he shouted, "Sam needs you, now." He started to tie a cord around Sam's arm to stop the blood from flowing out, but it was already too late. "Can you hear me? Sam?"

Sam watched Dr. Cullen kneel beside him, though he was like the reflection in a fogged mirror. Hazel eyes followed his movements, until they grew too heavy to stay open, blackness had been tugging at the edges of his vision for a while now. Slowly Sam's eyes drifted closed, his chest stopped its rise and fall.

"Sam?" He pulled Sam's eye lid open and looked at his pupil. "Sam," he lowered his head and started CPR, breathing for Sam and pressing on his chest, wet with blood. He felt Dean come up behind them, then saw as his son dropped down next to them.

"Sam... don't leave me," Dean begged, his voice thick and husky. "Please baby, don't leave me," he lifted Sam's head and shoulders off the ground while his father worked on him. "Don't let him die... please... don't..."

Wasn't it sick? Wasn't it appalling that his lover was dying, and still Dean was the equivalent of turned on by the scent of his blood. The wolf wasn't the only monster among them. He was fighting his instincts damned hard as he pleaded for Sam to hear him.

Carlisle pulled up though he kept compressing Sam's chest. "There's nothing I can do Dean..."

"NO, don't stop, don't you quit on him," Dean snarled, holding Sam closer and fiercely staring at his father.

"He's lost too much blood, his heart has given up. He's only human." Carlisle got up. "Turn him, or say goodbye."

"Dad... no..." Dean started to compress Sam's chest, "please ... Carlisle..." tears streamed down his face, but his father walked away to deal with not only Trevor, but a pack of wolves, and the elders from Res.

"Sam, don't go, don't leave me," desperately he pumped, the forced heartbeats giving him hope, even when deep down he knew Carlisle was right. “Please… please breathe… please don’t die…” he kept the pressing down as Sam’s life drained out of him. 

_No._

Shaking violently, he lifted Sam's already injured hand to his mouth. One lick and he was being dragged into a state of bloodlust. He tore the rubber medical cord off Sam's arm and started to drink in earnest.

Holy fuck, sweet, tangy, spicy... he tasted of innocence and anger and of tears, and as Dean drank, he cried. Cried because he didn't know if he could stop. Cried because he shouldn't be here needing and enjoying this when his love lay dying. Cried because he didn't know if Sam even wanted this, really wanted this. He'd read Rosalie's mind, knew she was thinking how much she hated the one who turned her. What if Sam... Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and Carlisle's voice whispering, "enough... give back now."

Give back. There was maniacal laughter echoing in Dean's head. Like he could stop. Like he didn't want to drain Sam dry... like he didn't need his blood the way humans needed to breathe. The hand squeezed his shoulder again. A thought broke through the red haze of lust... he needed _Sam_ like humans needed to breathe. 

Tearing his mouth away with a pained groan, he used his fingernail to cut across his inner arm, and aligned his dripping blood over Sam's mouth. _Just like his demon._

Pressing his arm down, he whispered in Sam's ear. "Drink... take what you need... live. Do it Sam. Do it."

* * * 

Sam frowned at the burning sensation on the inside of his body. His head rolled slightly, as a small pained sound left him. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. Slowly, dark lashes fluttered and opened, revealing golden hazel eyes. Sam blinked, confused. Slowly looking up into green/gold eyes. 

"You," Sam groaned in pain, pawed at the blanket to get uncovered as he glanced down, then back up at Dean, "You came back?"

Hearing the first words out of Sam's mouth in three days, Dean could barely speak. He was sure something had gone wrong. Every one of them had been in horrifying pain for days during the change, but Sam hadn't screamed, hadn't fought, and hadn't cried out. At times, he'd been restless, but that was all. 

After bringing him to their cabin in the mountains, Dean had called Carlisle at least twenty times, but his father had no answers and said all they could do was wait. Now the wait was over.

"I could say the same about you," Dean answered, feeling Sam's forehead. It was all wrong. Sam felt warm, not cold. 

Sam frowned thoughtfully, "What happened? And why am I so hot? Do I have a fever?"

"Good questions, I've got zip." Dean had no clue where to start or what to say. All he knew was that Sam wasn't in a coma anymore, and that there was hope. He'd been so afraid that either he wouldn't come out of it, or he'd come out _wrong_ , just like Trevor had been wrong in the head. "You don't remember... anything?"

Sam frowned thoughtfully, licked his lips, "I remember you standing me up.... again. Leaving me." Sam sighed , "I remember Trevor calling me, telling me he could find you, asking me to come to the Res. Agreeing. I remember going..." he frowned harder, "I remember we fought a little, Kim came out, she was crying and asked me not to kill her brother." He shook his head, "I couldn't do it, not in front of her like that. I lowered my gun and walked away. I... I was tackled..." he frowned, blinking. "I think I was torn up pretty bad, but I don't remember. I know I couldn’t move, and Trevor was pacing around me... I told him to kill me. I thought he did. Which is why I don’t understand how I’m here.”

"He almost did." Without thinking, Dean held Sam closer. "You told him what?" When the words registered, Dean pulled back to look at Sam. "Why?"

Sam pulled away from Dean, jaw clenched, "I was hunting, it was a good way to die. He started it, I told him to finish it. Not that it's any of your business anymore. You left, remember? You ended this." 

Dean ran a hand over his face. "Should have known you'd still be pissed." Wrong thing to say when what he really needed to do was explain what happened, what he'd done. "It's complicated. I need you to listen..."

Sam huffed, "Still be pissed!? Damn right I'm still pissed! You friggin stand me up AGAIN, you leave me, end it, and don't even have the guts to TELL ME!?!? I have to hear it from your father!?! Listen!? You want me to listen!? Oh now you want to talk...." he huffed again, crossing his arms over his chest and grimacing as he did, "Fine, talk."

Dean swung his legs off the bed, got up and walked across the room to lean against the large mantle. "I didn't mean about that, but we can back track to that if you want, after." This was all wrong, Sam still smelled human to him. His blood still sang to him, not just in the way a lover's blood might to any vampire, but in the sense of it causing blood lust. It made it hard for him to think.

He kicked the bear rug at his feet, folding its edge over. "I am sorry," he met Sam's eyes, flinching at the hardness he saw there. "For everything. Including some things you don't know about." He gripped the edge of the mantle. "I couldn't let you die, Sam. I couldn't watch you run out breath, couldn't listen to your heart stop... I couldn't do it."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, "So... just what are you saying Dean? That you changed me...made me a vampire now that you don't want me anymore, but back when I was at least delusional enough to think maybe you did, you wouldn't do it!?" Sam huffed, "That's got to be the biggest load of crap I've ever heard," he spat, kicking off the blanket, only to snatch it back again. "And why I am I always naked and you're always dressed!?"

"You're an exhibitionist?" Dean's jaw tightened, despite the crack. "Yeah Sam, that's exactly what I'm telling you."

Sam glared at him, slowly sat up in the bed, grimacing again as he did, but too pissed to care that he was sore, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Should have let me die, Dean. I was perfectly fine with it. This..." Sam shook his head, "I'm not." He pulled to his feet, swearing under his breath as he grimaced. "I'm getting dressed...in _something_ then I'll be out of your hair."

Dean didn't know whether Sam actually believed him and was in shock or denial, or whether he thought he was lying and was playing along. "Your clothes are in that drawer. Sam, do you understand what I'm saying here? You're one of us now." He pushed away from the fireplace and reached Sam, aching to hold him, wanting to so bad... but knowing Sam felt like he'd lost that right. "You can't just leave. You'll need help learning. It's best if you don't taste human blood at all, but alone... you won't be able to resist."

Sam went to the drawer and was pulling out his clothes. He stopped and looked at Dean, holding the blanket around his waist with one hand and glaring. "Dean, I'm a hunter, I know, you think I suck at it, but then, I guess there isn't a hell of a lot you don't think I suck at, but I think I got a pretty good idea of the rules. And don't worry, if I step outta line I know a good thousand or so hunters that would just love to kill me, so..." Sam set his clothes on the bed and looked back at Dean, "Problem solved." he looked back at his clothes and shook his head, "Cause I sure as hell am NOT staying anywhere around you. You made it clear you don't want me, and my name isn't Stacy!"

In a few strides, Dean closed the space between them and put his arms around Sam, holding him from behind. "Since the day I first saw you, there wasn't a day, not a single day when I didn't want you. Not the day I stood you up, not the week of hell I had trying to keep away from you, and not now. Please... please, Sam believe me." He brushed his mouth over that stubborn jaw of his. 

Sam stiffened at the feel of Dean's arms around him. He held perfectly still as Dean spoke, back ridgid. Feeling Dean's mouth at his jaw, Sam's heart ached. "I can't," he swallowed, "I can't do this. If I give in, you'll just leave again... another day... further off, after you make me love you even more. Then what do I do, huh?" he shook his head, "No, I can't do this." He reached for his shirt.

"You don't even wanna know the reason." Dean bit his lip. "I got exactly what I wanted, isn't it ironic? I wanted you to hate me. It was fucking brilliant, setting it up so you'd get your heart broke again. How many of them told you they saw it coming?" he asked bitterly. "I knew they would. That it would build into anger. That it would help you put everything we had behind. I did too fucking good a job of it, didn't I?" His voice cracked as Sam refused to look at him and quietly dressed. 

"Families don't kill each other. They protect each other. That's what you told me, Sam. That's why I did it. That's why I left."

Sam turned his head, frowning hard, "What!? Because I said..." he looked back, grabbed his socks and sat down on the edge of the bed. "That's a piss poor excuse Dean. Why not try 'the dog ate my home work' or 'I would have loved you but, I just, meh wasn't into it', " he huffed, "I think those make more sense." He shook his head, pulling on his last sock and looking around on the floor. "I need shoes and keys to my car. Wallet would be good too."

"I wasn't into it?" Dean's voice went dangerously low. "When was that, Sam? When was I not into you. God damnit, I know I hurt you. I know you might never want..." he crossed his arms, afraid of what he might do. "The only time, the one single time I've ever lied to you was when I said I'd meet you." 

Sam sighed, looking up at him, "So, what about my saying that families don't kill each other, they protect each other made you leave? Was it some form of vampire fear of commitment? Cause you need to tell me now," he shrugged, "You know in case I ever find a guy who's heart I want to break."

"You are now." The words left Dean in a rush. He clenched his fists, still crossing his arms. "The day you phoned your father to help you with your werewolf problem, Alice saw the future. I killed him... your dad, I killed him in the future she saw. So what were my choices? Stay with you, kill your dad and lose you, or leave... lose you but at least you still had your family." He wiped his eyes. "I knew if I told you, you wouldn't let me go or you'd track me. I couldn't let you... I couldn't."  
Sam smiled, but it was a humorless smile and it didn't reach his eyes, "Actually, I would have kept the two of you apart. I would have called him back and told him not to come. Not to ever come. I could have met him at some diner somewhere to tell him goodbye. But, I would have still had you... and him. Guess that goes to show how much faith you have in me." Sam held out his hand, "My keys."

"And he would just have said 'okay Sammy.' He wouldn't have gotten into his car and come here to see what the hell had his son under a spell or something. I don't even know the man Sam, but if he's anything like you, it would have made him get here faster." The stared at each other for a long moment. Dean finally had it. The tension, the worry, the heartbreak.

Grabbing Sam's shirt, he pulled him close, slanting his mouth over Sam's. 

Sam looked down at Dean's hand on his shirt, then looked up, only to have Dean there, pressing his lips to his. What the...? Sam closed his mouth, pressed his hands against Dean, pushing him away. Was he deaf? Did he not hear this entire conversation? 

Dean pressed his tongue harder along the seam of his mouth, moving his arms around his body and pulling him up hard against his frame. He might not remember everything else they shared, but he sure as hell would remember this.  
Sam gasped softly as Dean pulled him tighter against him. He pushed back against Dean, but only half heartedly, letting Dean's tongue slip past his lips with a soft moan.

He tasted the same, felt the same... smelled exactly the same, to the point Dean was uncertain if Sam had even changed at all. Then it hit him, something he hadnt even realized, he had a heartbeat. Holy fuck, he had a heartbeat, which was just... not possible. Even as those confusing thoughts tumbled around in his mind, Dean felt Sam respond to him and that was all that was important right here, right now. He swept his tongue over Sam's, loving him, holding him so close he would probably complain about the lack of air if he were the type to complain. His hands moved possessively over Sam's back, his ass, groaning as their groins made contact and he grew hard. Fuck it, Sam had to know they were meant for each other, he just had to. 

Sam moaned at the familiar feel of Dean kissing him, the way he tasted, the way he felt when he wrapped his arms around him. Sam's breaths were coming faster, through his nose as Dean's hands ran over his body. Slowly Sam raised his own arms, wrapping them around Dean, caressing his back, running downward, cupping his ass, then running up again.

Dean kissed him as fiercely as he groped him, mouths crushing together, no longer afraid to unleash his passion even though a few doubts remained. When he broke the kiss, he couldn't believe he was saying this, but the words came out anyway. "My keys and phone are over on the table, they're yours if you want them." He blinked back the tears. "Please don't walk away from me Sam... from this." 

When Dean broke the kiss, Sam was nearly smiling, though he bit his lip holding it back. At Dean's words, his smile fell away completely. He was giving him his car and phone, wanted him to... Sam's heart ached again, so bad he nearly didn't hear what Dean said afterward. 

He stared at Dean, unblinking for a few moments before the words registered with him. Sam slowly shook his head, "You can't do this to me again. If I stay, you have to promise me. Because no more chances, Dean. Promise me. No matter what Alice sees, no matter what you think... you stay. Family fights for family, Dean. Family comes first... _You're_ my family."

Dean grabbed him again, this time one arm around Sam's neck as he hugged him tight. "I won't leave you Sam, no matter what. I'll fight for you, to keep you." He felt a familiar need building up inside him. His first instinct was to pull away, to keep Sam safe from him. 

Sam held onto Dean as he started to pull away, frowning, "Dean? What is it? What's wrong?"

"The usual," his eyes darkened just a little. "I'm not sure about... you're different from any vampire, not sure it worked. I don't wanna hurt you... just got you back." 

Sam smirked at him, "Dude, I think you managed to change me into a vampire. I think we're fine." Sam told him nodding as he ran his tongue over his teeth. 

He pulled Dean back, closer to him, "Don't worry. I promise not to hurt you." Sam told him with a chuckle.

"Heh," Dean gave a half laugh, "let me see, open..." he fearlessly stuck his fingers into Sam's mouth and smiled at the razor sharp fangs that cut his finger. "Sonova... you are... I did... I mean we can..."  
Sam gasped as the first drop of Dean's blood hit his tongue. His eyes darkened instantly and he closed his mouth around Dean's finger sucking hard, one hand rose to grip Dean's wrist so he wouldn't pull his hand away. Dark eyes stared into green/gold.

Dean hissed. The sensation of Sam's tongue and then his insistent sucking instantly sending heat through his system. Deliberately, he pressed his finger again against Sam's fangs, groaning at the heat in Sam's eyes. Just like when he came, just like when he was all fucked out on his bed. Dean's lips burned, his cock pulsed against his zipper. He moved closer, watching the way Sam's mouth moved around his finger. "Fuck Sam, so hot..."

Sam smiled around Dean's finger, not yet willing to give it back. Moaning as more blood flowed into his mouth. He stepped closer to Dean, releasing his wrist and wrapping both of his arms around him, running his hands down Dean's back, cupping his ass and bringing their groins together. A groan sounded from Sam's throat as they collided and Sam began to grind his hips. Between the taste of Dean's blood and the feel of his cock, Sam was hard and wanting more.

Not even in his wildest daydream had Dean imagined anything like this. As Sam sucked his finger off, he started to slide his finger in and out of the wet heat of Sam's mouth, the sight of his finger getting sheathed and pleasuring Sam was such a turn on. God, all he could think of was that he was finger banging Sam's mouth, and that was just wrong... but so fucking right. So right. They went on and on, both of them feverish and needy, lost in these heady all new sensations.

Sam pulled his hand from around Dean, leaving Dean's ass to tug on his shirt, wanting it off. Reaching up, he gripped Dean's wrist as he pulled his mouth back just a bit. "Naked. You this time. Now." he stuck Dean's finger back into his mouth.

"Wha..." he was so fascinated by having the blood sucked from his finger, and hardly able to think when they were rubbing against each other so desperately, Dean found it hard to concentrate and understand what Sam was saying. "Expect me to multi-task, now?" he groaned, forcing his mind to catch up and shrugging out of his shirt. He tried to pull his arm, but Sam wasn't giving his finger up for anything. Giving a pained laugh, Dean tore the shirt off. "Come back here," he tugged Sam close, needing to build up the friction between them again.

Sam pressed his free hand against Dean's chest and glanced down at Dean's jeans, then back up at him and smirked around his finger, running his tongue over the single digit as he looked at Dean, waiting.

"Sam?" He followed his gaze and swore up a storm. "You make a bossy vampire," he muttered, trying to get out of his pants using only one hand. Then Sam was stroking his tongue over the pad of his finger and holy fuck, Dean could barely think. He toed off his boots, and got his jean's off, then growled. "No more playing. Need you." Slapping Sam's ass, he brought their groins back together, moaning as he dragged himself over Sam's clearly visible shaft.

Sam groaned, eyes closing as his head started to tip back, only to stop when Dean's finger didn't follow. Keeping Dean's finger in his mouth, Sam lowered his head again, smirking around the digit as he brought a hand to the waist band of Dean's boxers and slightly tugged down one side, dark eyes gazing into Dean's, brow raised.  
The corners of his mouth quirking up more, Sam slowly knelt in front of Dean, one hand holding Dean's wrist, bringing his hand down with him. He released Dean's wrist once he was on his knees and situated where he could keep Dean's finger between his lips.

Sam's hands went back to the waist band of Dean's boxers and slid them down as he looked up at Dean, letting the boxers pool to the floor. Slowly, Sam let Dean's finger slip from between his lips, running his tongue over Dean's digit one last time before looking down and wrapping his hand around Dean's cock. He leaned in, running his tongue along his length, then flicked his tongue across the head, dipping into the slit. He pulled his mouth back and looked up at Dean, before leaning in again, taking Dean deep into his mouth, moaning softly.

Dean had never been touched by anyone like this. Not even Sam had ever touched him without some sort of buffer preventing them from being skin to skin. Now Sam was working that mouth, that Dean lusted after every waking moment, over his cock, and it felt so damned good, he was gonna die from pleasure. His blood thrummed through his system, pounding at his temples. Sam's scent was in his nostrils, driving him crazy with need and this time he didn't have to pull away even as it affected him. 

Putting both hands on Sam's broad shoulders, he looked down, groaning at the sight of his cock sliding and disappearing inside Sam's mouth. Weeks ago. Days ago, this was just a dream. They'd both hoped, but deep down known it was unlikely, and yet they'd made due... finding other ways to love each other. Those ways paled in comparison. 

His head swimming from the intensity of the heat generated by Sam's mouth, Dean started to thrust. "Oh God Sam... fuck..." His teeth ached, his cock leaked, and he didn't want to disappoint his lover by breaking so fucking fast. No way... he had to hang on, he told himself, his fingers biting into Sam's shoulders so hard a human would have cried out in pain.

Feeling Dean's finger's gripping his shoulders, his tortured words, a warmth of excitement rushed through Sam. He pulled his head back ever so slightly, only to take Dean deeply once again. Wanting to make Dean feel good, he tried to remember what it was Dean had said he would do to him back when they could only just talk about it. 

He moved his hands to Dean's lower back, running up as far as he could reach and down, cupping his ass pulling him closer, squeezing. His hands moved down to the backs of Dean's thighs, then back up to his ass again. Sam pulled his head back, letting Dean pull away from his lips, careful not to scrape him with his fangs. 

Dean's cock fell from Sam's lips with an audible 'pop' as he looked up at Dean and licked his lips. "So, beautiful." Sam whispered before leaning in again, his breath against Dean's cock, as his tongue flicked out to tease the underside for a second before Sam's mouth went slightly lower, taking one of Dean's balls into his mouth, sucking softly as Sam's hands moved, one on Dean's lower back, one on his stomach, Sam held him there tightly, just like Dean had held him in his dream.

Sam's hot breaths fanning over his sensitive skin, and his tongue, pliant and darting, teasing his balls had Dean so wound up he might have pulled away if Sam hadn't had him trapped between his large hands. Every once in a while, the need to fuck would be so strong, he'd start to thrust against Sam's mouth... then fear of injuring Sam would shoot through him. He'd have to remind himself that Sam wasn't human, that it was okay, that even when he was mindlessly riding his mouth or trying... or if he went out of control and took his blood... nothing would happen. Sam could take it now.

He stood there, writhing, until he couldn't take it anymore. "Sam, baby please... get up... please," he begged, his soft plea at odds with the rough way he pulled Sam up to his feet. Dragging him close by his waistband, he started to undo Sam's jeans. "I want you in the shower. I want you to come in my mouth. I want to taste you... no stopping, no worrying, no fucking chair in the corner of the room... just you and me, doing what we want."

Sam's lips crushed Dean's even as his hands went to his own shirt, pulling it up, only pausing the kiss to pull the shirt over his head, dropping it onto the floor. He glanced down at his jeans Dean had unfastened, before crushing his mouth to Dean's once more, his own hands joining Dean's in pushing his jeans from his hips, boxers along with them, bending slightly to take them off, his mouth never leaving Dean's as their tongues tangled. 

Toeing off his shoes, Sam stepped out of his jeans, his hands blindly removing his socks, tossing them away, so that he stood naked with Dean. 

Sam's hands went to cup Dean's face as he broke the kiss, his hands moved downward, across Dean's shoulders, down his back, tugging him closer, as Sam panted out his breaths against Dean's lips, gaze locked on Dean's. He thrust his hips against Dean's, his arms wrapped around him, holding him tight, moaning softly, as he bit his lip, hissing in a breath and shaking his head slightly, "God, Dean... want you...so fucking bad." he whispered, huskily, before his mouth claimed Dean's once again, tongue pushing inside, caressing the interior of Dean's mouth, pulling his tongue into his own mouth to suckle.

He'd known Sam was enthusiastic, but he'd never imagined this... how they'd cling together, unable to keep their hands off each other even for seconds at a time. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed and pulled Sam to the large bathroom, chuckling at the protests he received when he let go to turn the water on. "Sam... Sammy," running his thumb over Sam's mouth, Dean fused their lips together again, cupping Sam's ass and molding his body to his frame. "All yours. All yours now, forever," he muttered, stepping under the running water in the double headed shower and smiling. "You're wet, we're both naked, and there's steam," he chuckled. How many of their dreams and daydreams involved water? "You think it's a kink?"

Sam wasn't paying attention to where Dean was leading them as his mouth devoured Dean's, his hands caressing, searching, memorizing every line, every contour of Dean's body. When Dean pulled away, Sam nearly snatched him back, as he whined about it, only to realize then what Dean was doing, where they were. 

Dean's words sent heat spiraling through Sam's system, his blood pounding in his temples as Dean kissed him again, Sam unable to get enough. Finally he was able to kiss him without being careful, without worry, without the fear that Dean would jump out the nearest window if he moved too fast, kissed too long, held too tightly. 

The water was warm as they stepped under the spray, but Sam barely noticed as he gazed into Dean's smiling face. He smiled softly, eyes glazed with passion, lids lowered over golden hazel eyes, "Maybe... dunno... maybe _you're_ my kink." he chuckled softly, leaning in, hands running down Dean's back as his mouth found Dean's once more, moving to kiss his jaw, his neck, lick along the vein there. Sam smirked against the skin of Dean's neck. "Don't move," he said softly, "vampire moment."

Dean's fingers curled around Sam's corded arms, but he didn't move, letting Sam map and trace the rivers of blood rushing under the surface of his skin. It was so fucking erotic, knowing what Sam could hear and smell sharply and how blood could arouse him as surely as bodies sliding together. "Let me see your eyes," he begged.

Sam moaned against Dean's neck, pausing in his trailing over veins and arteries, feeling Dean's blood under his tongue and not wanting to stop. Slowly, Sam pulled his tongue back and lifted his head, looking into Dean's eyes. 

Sam's eyes were dark, passion filled, fucked out, glazed with need and longing, intent and hard, as he looked at Dean, pausing a few moments breathing deeply. "I can smell you now. Your blood. God, Dean..." his eyes fluttered closed as he lowered his head again to Dean's neck, teeth scraping against tender flesh. Hands pulling Dean tighter against him, had he been human Sam would have crushed bones.

The absolute need in Sam's almost black eyes and the feel of his teeth against his throat had Dean moaning and pushing back against Sam. "Do your teeth ache?" His own tongue went over his fangs. "Is your mind fixed on only one thing? Feel like you'll die if you don't have it, like you can't think of anything else?" Dean whispered his questions, cursing at his inability to be in Sam's mind. "You can taste if you want." His fingers tightened, clenching around Sam's arms. "I'll stop you if you can't stop."

Sam moaned against Dean's neck, "God, Dean..." another lick, then Sam's warm mouth was sucking Dean's skin in, leaving a small bruise when he let go. "Yeah, my teeth ache, so do other parts of me." Sam ground his hips against Dean to show him what he meant. "Nothing else... just you... your blood... how you smell... God, you tasted so good. Fuck!" Sam whispered back, head moving to place his forehead against Dean's neck, breaths panting out. 

Sam moved his head, his mouth back against Dean's throat, tongue running over the surface of the artery there a strangled groan sounded low in Sam's throat before his mouth opened, sucking Dean's skin into his mouth, teeth grazing. With a whimpered moan, Sam sank his fangs into Dean's neck, sucking hard, eyes inky black, as he held onto Dean in a vise-like grip.

His lover's tortured voice describing what he was going through twisted Dean up on the inside. Now Sam understood, if not exactly, at least he had an idea of how strong the craving could get, how it could take over all your senses... how your mind seemed to focus on one thing alone, satisfaction. "Fuck... Sam," Dean bucked against him as Sam's teeth pierced through his skin and without the slightest hesitation, Sam started to take what he needed. "Oh fuck..." 

It was another first for Dean, letting a vampire drink from him. Just the feel of Sam's mouth working his throat was so damned sexy, and his mind wouldn't let go of the image of him sucking on his finger earlier. Dean slid his arms around Sam, fucking against him, whimpering with need. "So good... so good Sam."

Sam thrust his hips back against Dean, arms wrapped tightly around him, backing him up until Dean's back hit the tiled wall. One arm unwrapped from around Dean, sliding up to run down his side, back up and down again as Sam's hips thrust harder against his body, fucking against him, against the wall, Sam's mouth still latched onto Dean's neck, drinking deeply, as he fed his craving. Sam moaned, a low growl sounding in his throat as he moved against Dean harder, rougher, with more urgency. The fingertips of his hand dug into Dean's back as he held him tightly, clinging.

If the shower hadn't been reinforced, there would have been some cracked tiles... not that Dean was complaining. The smell of blood and of Sam filled his nostrils, the friction between their bodies ratcheted up the heat between them. The sounds of they made echoed and reverberated around him, enflaming his desires. "Enough Sam," he whispered half heartedly, his own eyes dark. A few more moments passed, both of them still giving in to the urgencies of their bodies, needing each other in ways only their kind could understand. 

Blinded by his passion and his need for Dean in ways he couldn't even describe if he were asked to, he allowed Dean's whispered words to go unheeded, needing just a few more moments, a bit more of Dean, not enough, never enough.

Abruptly, Dean pushed against Sam, this time slamming Sam's back against the wall, and pulling his throat away. "Kiss me," he said, covering Sam's mouth and giving him something else to concentrate on... tasting himself... tasting Sam's need on his tongue. He kissed harder, crushing his mouth over Sam’s, welding their hips together as he ground against him, faster, more frantically, reaching for release. 

Sam's eyes opened, his lips parted as his body slammed against the opposite wall. And all he could think about, all he could do was stare at Dean's neck. Then Dean's mouth was on his and Sam was wrapping him in his arms, taking what he needed in the form of a kiss this time. Searching, seeking, hungry. 

He moaned into Dean's mouth as their hips ground against one another, moving against Dean in rapid urgent movements, meeting and giving back, needing more, reaching for the release his body ached for, needed. Sam's hands moved down Dean's back, cupping his ass, molding him against himself as he moved his hip, their cocks sliding together, seeking the friction they needed.

Sam's hands rubbed, squeezed, caressed Dean's ass, one finger slipping down to rub against Dean's tight hole, to press then release, press then release. Slowly Sam slid his hand up to Dean's lower back, crushing him harder against himself a groan leaving him as his head tilted back against the tiled wall.

A surprised groan broke out of Dean at the sudden jolt of electric heat that went through him the instant Sam ran his finger over the bundle of nerves at his hole. He'd never thought... "Don't stop," he whispered, grinding harder and pushing back against that teasing finger. "Said you'd never..." How did Sam know if he hadn't been with a guy before? His grip on his lover tightened possessively, but before he could formulate more coherent questions, his balls were drawing up tight. "Oh God Sam... I'm gonna come... come with me," he buried his face in the crook of Sam's throat, pressing his mouth against silky soft skin muffling his cries as he exploded against his lover, his mind filled with ten thousand other ways they could make love into eternity.

Sam grinned slightly at Dean's whispered command, at his body pressing back against his finger. He bit his lip as he hung his head, cheek against Dean's soft hair as he buried his face against Sam's neck. Warmth pooled in Sam's lower belly, as he pressed his finger into Dean. As Dean cried out against his neck, Sam threw his head back, eyes closed tightly, balls drawing up. Sam's head hit the tiled wall with a loud smack as he came hard, Dean's name tumbling from his lips. 

Slowly, Sam pulled his finger from inside Dean, wrapping his arms tightly around him, holding him against himself as he stood, eyes remaining closed, head against the tiles, his breaths ragged, uneven, like he'd been running. He swallowed, slowly lowering his head to look at Dean. A smile tugging at his lips, "Yeah..." he panted out his breath... "you're right..." he swallowed again..."that woulda killed me." he chuckled, his head falling back against the tiles again.

"Now you admit it." Dean kissed him again, lightly, running the blunt tips of his fingers along the side of Sam's face and threading them through his wet hair. He grew serious. "I love you. And I'm sorry... sorry I ever made you think I didn't. Sorry I almost gave up on us. That would have been worse than Romeo and Juliet."

Sam looked down at Dean, slowly picked his head up from against the wall. He placed a soft kiss on Dean's lips, ran his tongue along his bottom lip, nipping it softly before he pulled back. "I love you too."

Sam didn't say much about the rest of it, his jaw tightened a little as he looked away, down at the shower floor for a moment before his eyes rose to meet Dean's again. Slightly slanted golden hazel gazing into green/gold. "Yeah, it would have been worse. At least they died knowing they were loved." he looked away again, huffing softly, licked his lips. "My Dad's not coming into town. That's why I didn't wait for him. Why I hunted Trevor when I had the chance." Turning his head, he looked back at Dean, "Didn't figure I had anything to lose."

"What about your life." He couldn't help being slightly angry at Sam for having gone half cocked, even if it was his own fault. Pulling away, he shook his head. "I don't know what I'd have done if you..." He didn't have to end the sentence, Sam knew. 

Sam raised an eyebrow, tilting his head, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, you do. Cause yeah, I did." he reached out and pulled Dean back over to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. "My fair Romeo came and saved me from the vicious," Sam's eyes widened playfully as he said, 'vicious', "werewolf. Turing me to save me from certain death." Sam dramaticly threw an arm over his forehead, chuckling.

"Your fair Romeo _almost_ ate you in the process, and not in the good way," Dean growled. "At least you can never do this to me again, now that you're almost indestructible." He grabbed the soap and started to lather Sam up, his hand sliding down Sam's chest and abs. "Just yesterday, drying you up was a big deal." Because of that, he knew deep down that every touch between them would always be a _big deal_. Special.

Sam smirked at him, quirking a brow, "Yesterday?"

"Always so technical. Feels like just yesterday, and I'd like to forget that week in between, if you don't mind." His hand slipped behind Sam and once he was done with his back, he did a very thorough job of washing his ass, lingering between his cheeks and sucking his breath in. 

Sam smirked then drew in a deep breath as Dean washed his backside a soft moan escaping him before he narrowed his eyes at him, "Copy cat."

Dean chuckled. "Told you, cat. And porn addict. And did I mention vampires don't really need to rest between fucks," his smile spread as he noticed that Sam was completely 'getting' the point. "Are you still gonna call me your _vampire boyfriend_ now that you're one of us?" He'd liked that much more than he should have. 

Sam pulled Dean closer to him, leaned in and kissed his chin, his jaw, working his way back to his ear, running his tongue around the shell, licking just inside. "Vampire boyfriend, vampire mate, vampire lover, the vampire who owns my heart," Sam whispered, his warm breath against Dean's ear. He shrugged slightly, "Whatever works." he said, as his mouth moved lower, tongue running down the side of Dean's neck.

" _Everything_ works," he answered as Sam prodded his now closed wound with his tongue. "Enough talking. Time to make a few more daydreams come true." Lowering his head, he covered Sam's flat male nipple with his mouth, sucked hard, then moved down to his stomach, twisting them around so he could bow Sam backwards slightly. "Gonna take us years... centuries... we'll need sound proofing, you're loud," he chuckled against wet, quivering flesh, and then single-mindedly set about bringing them both to completion again.

Sam smiled against Dean's neck, before Dean moved, making him pull away. As Dean's mouth closed over his nipple, Sam sucked in a breath, eyes closing as he moaned long and loud. Golden hazel eyes slowly open to watch Dean make his way lower to his stomach, muscles rippled beneath the surface of his skin as Sam tried to hold still, his breaths quickening. 

And then Dean was changing their position, bending him back slightly. Sam frowned at Dean's words, "I am not..." Sam sucked in a breath as what Dean was doing to him, sent heat flooding through his system, making his cock ache, his body whither. "HOLY FUCK!" Yeah, okay...maybe he was _a little_ loud....


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning, Sam stood in the large kitchen of the cabin, opening cabinet after cabinet as he searched through each one, only to wind up closing them each with a huff. "Dammit," he mumbled as he started going through the next row of cabinet's he came to, then moving to the refrigerator, only to find each and every thing in the kitchen empty. Immaculately clean, and empty. "Now I know how old Mother Hubbard felt." He frowned hard as he closed the fridge and opened another cabinet.

Dean walked out of the bedroom, eyebrow raised to find Sam in the most unused room in the cabin. "Whatcha doing?"

Sam looked over his shoulder, lips parted in slight 'huh' expression. "Oh," he turned back around and frowned into the empty cabinet, "Looking for food." he said as he swung the cabinet closed and turned to look at Dean, "I'm friggin' starving!"

"Ah... about that..." Dean had expected Sam to wake from the change ravenous, but then he'd taken his blood and maybe that had held him for a while. "It's not that kind of hunger, Sam. You need blood. We're up here cause there's plenty to hunt. I'll show you." Putting his hand out, he nodded toward the door. Though it was snowing outside, they wouldn't even need jackets.

Sam looked at Dean and blinked, then frowned as he looked toward the door. "Uh, no dude. I was thinking like chicken alfredo or pizza actually." Sam said as he looked again into an empty cabinet, "Oh! I know! Chicken stir fry!" he said with a grin looking over at Dean, "Does any place deliver out here!?" he asked excitedly.

"You need blood, you won't like food anymore," Dean insisted. "Come on."

* * *

An hour later a very perplexed Dean was sitting across from Sam, staring at him as they waited for... _the pizza delivery guy._ Sam had been so grossed out by Dean's demonstration of how to catch and get your fill of deer, he'd puked right there on the snow. Puked... Dean hadn't even known a vampire could throw up.

 

He slapped his fist into his palm as they waited, thinking that pizza would probably get the same reaction out of Sam. "It’ll get better. I've never seen a vampire go green."

Sam sat slouched in a chair, looking at Dean through lowered lids. Making a face, he rolled his head to the side against the chair back, "Dude, that was just... gross." He looked back at Dean, "No offense, but I think I'll stick to real food."

 

"I don't think you can. You'll get used to it, trust me." They both turned toward the window at the sound of a car approaching. Dean pushed up and went to the door. Paying for the pizza and soda, he returned and put them down on the coffee table. "Knock yourself out." He was ready to enjoy this, and wasn't hiding it. "For all the times you made me eat your human food."

Sam sat forward and glanced up at him with a grin before looking back down and flipping the box top open. Pulling out a slice of pizza, Sam took a bite, before laying the piece back down and wiping his hands on the napkin. Chewing he reached for the soda cans and opened one. 

 

He looked up at Dean and made a face, "Yeah, you're right... I should have gotten extra cheese." he muttered before looking back and picking up his pizza again, taking another big bite once he had swallowed the other. Sam looked up at Dean, lifting the slice of pizza, "Come on, try a bite."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me... you're..." as the slice approached his mouth, Dean leaned way back. "I'm cursed...I'm fucking cursed, you're never gonna lay off with this... never." His eyes were swinging between Sam's mouth and the slice of pizza as his brain tried to catch up.

"Aw, come on... Hey, if it'll make you feel better, I'll ask them for venison on the next pizza," he chuckled, taking another bite. "It's good," he said around a mouthful, reaching for the soda can.

"Gross." Shuddering, Dean merely watched him.

* * * 

 

Sam stood out side in the middle of a snow bank, amazed that he was standing there in just a t-shirt, jeans and his boots without freezing to death or catching pneumonia. Reaching down as he saw Dean walking toward him, Sam grabbed up a hand full of snow, packed it into a tight ball and hurled it at Dean, hitting him square in the face. 

 

Throwing his head back in laughter, arms raised above his head, hands closed in fists, Sam yelled, "Yessss! He shoots! He scores!"

"This is war, bitch!" Spitting out snow, Dean raced after him, scooping up and packing ice in his own palms. They moved as fast as the wind, chasing and shouting. Tightly packed snowballs struck and shook fully grown trees under the force of their throws. "Over here... ha!"

They wove between the trees, and then Dean couldn't see Sam. He stilled, listening for his still beating heart... and then it was too late. Sam was behind him and a big old ball of ice smacked him in the back of his head. Cursing again, he swung around, this time bodily launching himself at Sam.

Their bodies collided mid-air, so hard it sounded like thunder reverberating in the mountains. Neither of them blinked as they wrestled each other onto the ground. "Sonova..." Dean really had to keep on top of his game because Sam had these practiced moves that could pin him down, and then he'd never hear the end of it. 

Sam laughed as they rolled on the snow, first one on top and then the other. "You are so screwed, dude! Might as well give in now," he teased. Soon Dean was on him, pinning him to the ground. Sam grinned up at him, breaths panting out from wrestling. His eyes danced and glittered as he looked up at Dean, "You think you've won, don't ya?" Sam asked him.

 

He huffed and shook his head, snow clinging to his hair, "I've gotten out of this move before. Remember, I had to train for hours doing this kind of stuff," Sam told him, grinning wide. With a grunt, Sam tried to buck his hips and dislodge Dean from his spot on top of him, only Dean didn't seem to be moving like he was suppose to.

"Training, yeah... I'll show you training, fledgling," he mocked, licking across the seam of Sam’s mouth as he pressed bodily down. "Say it... mercy..." He had Sam's arms pinned, and was proceeding to blow in his ear. "'Mercy'... its easy, say it."

Sam growled as he started to thrash, bucking his hips harder. "You call that teasing!? I've been teased better than that by a woman in white! Is that all you've got!?"

"Show you what I got," Dean growled, nipping Sam's throat, gripping his delicate skin between his teeth. The combination of lust for Sam's blood, and the sensation of his squirming body was getting him hot, and he hoped he could resist giving in to his body’s needs long enough to make Sam give in. "Say it... and we'll both get what we want. Out here, in the open, in the snow Sam... melt a lot of snow." He didn't loosen his iron grip, not even for an instance, knowing Sam would be quick to try to slip away.

Sam wiggled and thrashed under Dean, his hips bucking, body squirming, teeth clenched. "Yeah, we'll make snow melt, _after_ you admit that I can kick your ass!"

"When hell freezes over. Come on, just fucking say it so we can--"

 

Sam was still squirming still struggling, when suddenly, Dean was thrown off of him, landing high in the air, back slamming into a tree. Sam stilled instantly as he blinked up at him in confusion. "D-Dean?"

"Sam?" Dean found himself pinned to the dammed tree, arms and legs free to thrash but defying gravity by hanging in the air. Feeling ridiculous, he frowned. "Very funny. Just when did you learn you had this... this power. And may I add its not fair fighting, this does NOT mean you win."

 

Sam's lips slowly curved into a smile and he giggled, actually giggled as he crossed his arms over his chest, laying there in the snow looking up at Dean. "I didn't know. Just as surprised as you are." he chuckled, "Dude, you're cute hanging there like a little rag doll. Say it.. say uncle. Say I win. Say, Sam you’re my master, he laughed.

"Fuck you... let me down." He wasn't really mad, maybe a bit frustrated. "Dude you're too old to be making snow angels, now get me down."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, "Sticks and stones, lover, sticks and stones. Say it and I'll let you down. Say, Sam you are my master, my hero and you win," he grinned wide.

"Uncle." That was about as far as he would go, as his eyes locked with Sam's. 

Sam tilted his head to the side again in the snow, "Mm, I dunno..." he narrowed his eyes, "I think I like the Master idea." he told him with a smirk.

"Jerk." Still unable to get off the tree, he relented. "Master... and I'm expecting master/slave sex later... gonna day dream on it and let you know how it's going down." It did have some appeal... lots of room for fun. 

Sam chuckled. "Okay, fine." He released his hold on Dean and watched as he fell to the snow with a soft =thoop= sound as Dean sank into the snowbank. Sam lay laughing, one hand rising to cover his mouth as he laughed hard, rolling from side to side in the snow.

"Ha ha, funny," Dean stood, shaking the snow off and looking up at the offending tree, having half a mind to kick it over. "So... you eat disgusting human food, me, and now you have TK. I have a feeling that life with you isn't gonna be boring." Eyeing him much like a cat might watch a moth, he pounced suddenly, landing right on top of Sam so hard they both sank deep into the snow. "Now... who's the master?" he growled, covering Sam's mouth with his in a heated kiss.

* * *

Two weeks later, Sam Winchester and Dean Cullen were definitely together. There were whispers of how much like the Cullens Sam had become, but what Dean liked best was how human Sam was in many way. He was pale, but nowhere near as pale as the rest of them. He'd gained strength and speed, and he did need blood to survive, but he wouldn't kill animals. He opted to feed from Dean which was just fine with Dean because ... fuck, feeding from each other was the most erotic thing out there.

He'd met Sam's great aunt, and after getting the talk about treating her nephew right or else she’d introduce him to some police officer friends she’d met from working at the coroners for so long, they became good friends. Apparently, unlike the 'youth of today,' he knew a thing or two about history and was worth talking to. Luckily Sam was a natural geek and could join in.

They spent their nights together, either at the Cullens, or at Sam's, and Dean no longer had any reason to be bored at night. When they played their web cam games, it always ended the same, one of them jumped through the window into the others' room. 

Dr. Cullen and Esme accepted Sam into the family, as did the rest of the vampires. Rosalie told Sam she was jealous of his ability to have one foot in each of their worlds, but she was glad for him. 

 

Carlisle thought that the demon blood in Sam, the same thing that had immunized him from other things, including the usual pain that came from changing into a vampire, kept him in a half human/half vampire state. He'd studied Sam's blood and concluded that like the rest of them, Sam wouldn't grow older.

The treaty between the Cullens and the Res held. Trevor hadn't been killed, but he'd been turned over to the council. Even though it was after the fact, Carlisle had managed to negotiate an exception to the treaty's bans against Cullens entering the Res lands and biting humans. These concessions were couched as compensation for the severe injuries caused by the werewolf to Sam. Realizing Trevor had mental issues, the Council had promised to do whatever was necessary to keep the world safe from Trevor.

Now, Dean had Sam's car detailed and shined up, and stood leaning against it as he waited for Sam to come out of class. Seeing his lover walk out with Alice, he shouldn't have been surprised. If he couldn't read his sister like a book, he might have been jealous. Just a little... okay maybe he was, which was dumb.

"Since you won't let me buy you a _real_ car..." Dean grinned.

Alice smiled, but mentally shared her news that John Winchester was on his way to Forks.

The smile was wiped off Dean's face. "Oh, shit..."

 

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, before glancing back at Alice, "I take it you told him?" Sam sighed and looked back at Dean, "So, my father is coming and all you can say is 'oh shit'? Gee, thanks, man." Sam teased him, though he knew this was serious, knew why Dean was worried.

 

"Look, nothing is going to happen, Dean. I won't let it. Believe me. I can make certain that it doesn't." he stepped closer to Dean, grabbing the front of his jacket and leaning in, his mouth near Dean's ear, "Remember what I told you." he whispered, "You jet and I leave. Forever. I'm not going through that again." Sam pulled back and looked into Dean's eyes.

Dean stiffened. "Alice?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, I'm trying to see, but I don't know."

He turned to look at Sam. "It's not the same. I could just leave until he does. I don't want to risk this, Sam."

Sam clinched his jaw, muscle twitching as he gave a single shake of his head, "No. You go, I go. You don't want to be here when he comes to town," Sam nodded, "fine, we'll leave. Go somewhere else. My Aunt can tell my Dad we left."

"Sam be reasonable." Seeing the stubborn tilt of his jaw, Dean swore up a storm. "Alice..." Seeing no help from that quarter as she left, he swore again. "Alright. Alright Sam, because nothing should separate you from your family, and I'm not going to be the cause but, Goddammit, what if..."

 

Sam leaned in, pressed a kiss to Dean's jaw, "It won't." he told him, taking his hand in his and giving it a squeeze, "trust me. I can handle my Dad. Been doing it all my life."

Dean didn't answer that. "Miss Appleby is asking herself what happened, here she thought you were a _nice_ boy.'" 

 

Sam smirked and leaned in closer to Dean, not bothering to look at the teacher. "Do _you_ think I'm a nice boy?" he chuckled.

"I think you're a _very nice boy_." Opening the door to the Impala, he practically shoved Sam inside. "Meet me at mine... don't drive like a granny in your granny car. I'm giving you a head start." He started pulling back, but then added, "and Sammy... be a _nice_ boy and have your clothes off for me."

* * *

 

John Winchester stood on his aunt's porch, waiting for his boy, one leg slightly raised and resting on a box that had been delivered to the house. You could barely tell that he was smiling when the Impala pulled up. The fancy sports car pulling up behind it surprised him, but Sam was good at making friends. Too good at it.

 

Sam turned off the engine, saying a quick small prayer that his dad wasn't... well, his dad, then opened the car door and slid from behind the wheel. The door gave it's familiar creek and groan as he opened it, then shut it behind him, leaning back against the car as he waited for Dean to walk up to him. 

 

Sam gave Dean a meaningful look, one meant to let him know it was going to be okay, as he reached for Dean's hand, lacing his fingers through Dean's before turning to walk toward his Dad. "Hi, Dad." Sam called out to him as they walked up. Sam glanced down at the ground, at the porch and the box his dad's foot rested on, before he looked up again. "The problem was taken care of already dad. It's fine now," he told him, talking in code the way they did when around other people, innocent people. No need to tell his dad Dean was a vampire unless it was absolutely necessary.

John Winchester looked his son up and down, bluntly looking at his boy's hand clasping the other boy’s. "Boy, you got something to tell me?" His gaze shifted to the outsider, taking in his too pale features, the slight shadows under his eyes, and the mesmerizing, unnaturally bright eyes. His hunters senses were on full alert, even as his mind worked on the other issue with his son.

 

Sam hung his head as his grip tightened on Dean's hand. Taking a deep breath, Sam looked back up. "Yes, sir. This," he glanced at Dean and smiled softly, before looking back at his dad, "is Dean Cullen, he's my boyfriend." He cleared his throat and looked away.

As Dean stretched his hand out, he was damned sure that John Winchester wasn't going to be half as easy to charm as his aunt. Even as the man gripped his hand in a tight grasp, he knew he was being evaluated. The guy had a poker face, but as Dean prodded his thoughts, he tensed. "Nice to meet you, sir. I know what you're thinking, but maybe if you gave us a chance to explain."

 

Sam raised his head and looked over at Dean, jaw clenched. _Don't read his mind, don't read his mind._

John's eyes got as dark as any vampire eyes Dean had ever seen. He let Sam's hand go, knowing John might blow his top any moment.

 

As Dean let go of his hand, Sam looked back at his father, stepping slightly forward and between Dean and his dad, swallowing hard as his leg shook nervously.

John didn't answer, and merely nodded for them to go inside, but grabbed Sam's arm before Sam could follow Dean inside.

 

Sam stopped abruptly, looking at his dad. "I know, Dad. He's a guy and you didn't think that I...." Sam sighed, licked his lips, "I should have told you sooner... my feelings about this kind of thing, I guess." He glanced toward the door where Dean had walked through, swallowing. _Please don't ask about anything else, please don't notice. Please._

"There was no _this kind of thing_. What about Stephanie, holy hell son, we moved but it was only a year ago. " John's jaw tightened. "Do you know what that _thing_ is?" he demanded, still holding onto his son. "It's done something to you. Now go and get into the car." Expecting no argument, the older man started for the door.

Sam stood his ground, shook his head as he raised it, jaw clenched, muscle twitching, "No. I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying right here... in Forks, with Dean. And yes, I know exactly what he is. He's warm, caring and funny and smart and I love him."

"You've lost your mind, _it_ is cold as ice. Now get your ass in the car like I told you," John shouted, practically shoving Sam down the porch stairs. "We'll talk about this afterwards." Not giving Sam a choice, he strode inside and turned the deadbolt. His stuff was right near the door and he had the machete in his hand as he headed into the living room. "Where are you hiding, I know you can hear me."

 

Sam glared angrily at the door that was shut in his face when he marched back up the stairs to argue with his father. If he broke it, great aunt Cathleen would have a cow...

 

"I'm not hiding." Dean was sitting on the sofa with his elbows resting on his knees. He looked up. "Not all of us are... evil," he said using terms he knew Winchester would understand.

"You're not dangerous," sarcasm dripped from John, who expected Dean to strike at any moment.

Dean had no answer to that. "I'd never hurt him."

 

Sam tried the door again, for the tenth time, screamed again for the hundredth time, telling his father he wasn't leaving, to get out there and face him, leave Dean alone. That was when he had heard the sound of punches. "Dean!" Sam shouted his name, eyes wide.

 

"You already have," John roared, striking with a closed fist, and striking again. "Son of bitch," he roared at the pain shooting up his fist and arm, as if he'd hit immovable rock. He raised the machete, noting but not caring that Dean merely sat there, waiting.

 

"Dean!" Sam shouted his name as he turned slightly, ramming his shoulder against the door. The door not only opened, but snapped off it's hinges, wood and insulation from the other side of the wall, where the dead bolt had torn out, raining down. Sam stood there in the doorway glaring at his dad, who was visible through the arch to the livingroom,

 

"Get away from him!" With those words, John Winchester went flying backward, his back hitting the wall across the room.

 

Sam went to Dean then, kneeling next to him, as he wrapped his arms around him and hugged him. "I'm not leaving, Dean's a vampire," Sam turned his head to look at his father, "And so am I." he told him, eyes narrowed, "If you kill him, you need to kill me too."

"You know he can't hurt me," Dean whispered, reassuring Sam. The only thing he'd been worried about was Alice's prior predictions, and keeping his temper so it wouldn't come true. It was tough sitting there and accepting a pounding, fighting against anger and the rising need for blood.

John scrambled up, the machete still in his hand. Eyes wild, he looked at his son. "No... no, you can't be, you're Sam... my little boy." Even as the words of denial dripped from his lips, the door, the way he'd been thrown off the other vampire, those things told him something was afoot. Unafraid, he walked to his son and grabbed him, pulling him up. "What have you done? Sam what the fuck have you done?" he roared, touching his son's skin and confirming he wasn't a vampire. "What is this?"

 

Sam looked at his dad as he was pulled to his feet, glancing at Dean.

Dean stood up, moved away and gave them room. The anger and worry coming in waves from the elder Winchester was hard to miss even if you weren't a mind reader. For Dean, he had only hatred. Not that Dean was surprised. 

 

" _This_ is me, in love... with a vampire. And yes, Dad, I _am_ a vampire. I know I don't feel like one, but I am. I have fangs and I drink blood," he looked toward Dean, "Dean's blood." He looked back at his dad, "Dean turned me to save my life. The night I went to face the werewolf, went alone, because YOU couldn't find the time to come here and help me, because that demon was more important than me, _again_ ," he huffed, "I was nearly killed, was killed. But, Dean made me into what he is and brought me back. If you want to hate Dean, fine. But, you need to hate me too then. He _saved_ me, dad. How is that evil?"

"I told you to hunker down and wait for me. And that thing killed your mother, I will hunt it down and kill it, like I hunt down every other evil sonovabitch out there." The words were heavy, hanging between them. He grabbed his son's jacket, "drinking blood. Fangs. How is that NOT evil, how?" His fingers flexed around the metal, his nostrils flaring.

 

Sam didn't answer, only continued to look at his dad, jaw clenched, muscle twitching, eyes hard, narrowed.

Dean took a step towards them. John couldn't hurt Sam, but there was more than physical pain. "He's your son. He's still your son. If you took the time to talk to him, to listen, you'd see that. He's the only thing you have left in the world, and no, he's not evil." Dean frowned, "why would you think that?"

John's eyes shifted to Dean's. He'd just been thinking about what the demon had done to his son, wondered whether its effects were kicking in. "This is family business, my family's. Keep out of it," he snarled, whirling back on Sam. 

 

"Dean is _my_ family now too. And he's right, I'm not evil, neither is he. There _are_ things that go bump in the night, dad, that aren't evil. Just like Rachel." Sam told him, referring to the vampire girl he had let live, the girl his dad had chewed his ass about for days after. 

 

"Let go of me." Sam told him, glancing down at his dad's hand on his jacket. Looking into his dad's face, Sam huffed and shook his head, "I won't even drink animal blood. That's what Dean drinks, you know. Animal blood. He tried showing me how and I just couldn't do it. How evil is that? Can't even kill an animal," he spat, eyes narrowed, "Why don't you tell Dean the real reason you say that. Tell him how you blame me. Don't lie Dad, I've seen the way you look at me. You blame me for mom." Sam shook his head, "I was just a baby. I didn't _do_ anything." he jerked away from his dad's grasp.

"What a fool thing to say! I have NEVER blamed you Sammy, never," John exploded, back in his son's face. "I blame that monster, only that monster, not you, NOT you." His nostrils started to flare again, and he didn't miss the fact that his son looked equally angry. "And I didn't say anything."

"Tell him all of it," Dean said softly. "He needs to hear the truth. He needs to know."

"I told you to keep out of this," John snarled, dropping his weapon finally. 

"That's not gonna happen. Yes, I can, I can keep him safe... No, that thing won't get to him, we'll protect him, all of us... you, me, my family too." Dean answered every mental thought that passed through John's head.

Sam looked back and forth between Dean and his father frowning hard, "WORDS! Words would be nice! Some of us can't just read people's thoughts, Dean!" he looked back at his dad, "Care to elaborate? What is he talking about?"

 

"It's not just revenge, that's part of it, but not all of it." The hunter heavily sat down, looking up at his son. Had he done wrong by his son? Probably.

"You did your best," Dean whispered, ignoring the look Sam shot him.

John was good at ignoring too and didn't look as if he'd heard. "The yellow eyed demon, it's still after you. Some time, some place, it'll come to claim you. That's why I hunt it... because it's not going to get its hands on one more member of my family. You're all I have." He closed his eyes. "I was close... so damned close."

Sam closed his eyes, feeling as though his worst nightmare had just been confirmed... and in a way, it had, hadn't it?

He huffed, turning his head, as he opened his eyes. "It's what my nightmares always are about," he told his dad softly, "about him coming back to get me." Sam nodded, as he leaned back against the wall, licked his lips. He raised a hand, pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, eyes squeezed tightly closed, before his hand dropped, eyes opening again. 

 

"How long have you known... that it would come back for me?" Sam asked.

"In my gut? Always." John Winchester's face was grim. "Confirmed... knowing he's going to somehow try to influence you, make you evil," his eyes flicked to Dean's... he was the one who'd let that cat out of the bag. "A couple years. But I won't let him get you Sam. I got a weapon... it can kill any demon," his gaze flicked once again to Dean.

 

Sam's eyes went toward the ceiling, lips parted, eyes wet, shiny. He frowned, sniffled, nodding as he looked back down, staring off into nothingness. "Well, I'm not running anymore. I'll be right here. In Forks. If he's coming, I guess he won't have far to look." His eyes slid to his dad, "A weapon?"

"Won't work on me," Dean answered John's silent thought. "Not demon."

The older Winchester nodded, his jaw tightening. "A colt. A special one."

 

Sam pulled away from the wall and walked over to stand between his dad and Dean. "You need to stop," he told his dad, before continuing on, changing the topic back to something more important than 'killing Dean'.

 

"A colt? You have it, with you? Now?" a small smile tugged at his lips as he looked back at Dean, "I remember when I was like, five... I told him I was afraid of the thing in my closet," he looked back at his dad, even as he spoke to Dean, "He gave me a .45." Sam shook his head, snickering softly. "Let's see this demon killing gun, dad."

Raising his brow and tilting his head in a 'so that's it' gesture, Dean muttered, "no wonder you laugh in the face of death." Thank God he was a vampire now, or Dean might have had to watch over him every moment of the day.

Still undecided about the situation, John told Sam to get it from his duffel, near the door. The moment his son left the room, he asked. "Did you give him a choice?"

Dean didn't answer.

"I said did you give my son a choice," John's voice boomed.

He shook his head ‘no’, bracing for another round of shouting. "My father gave me the choice." He met John's eyes. "He said ‘turn him or say goodbye’." Dean's voice grew husky as he remembered that moment. "I couldn't fucki... I couldn't say goodbye."

Sam paused as he crouched next to his dad's duffel, his hand inside the bag as he listened to Dean and his dad talk. With a sigh, he pulled up and walked back into the room, carrying the colt in his hand, frowning down at it. He looked up a his dad, then back at the gun, "So, what makes this so special. Looks like any other gun."

 

"I don't know, other than it works on the sons of bitches."

Dean got up. "I'm gonna head home. It was ... interesting meeting you," he knew better than to bullshit the man. "Goodnight."

When Sam grabbed his arm, he shook his head. "Just home, Sam. And I'll be here at breakfast, I promise. You have stuff to talk over with your dad."

 

Sam frowned at Dean as he stepped more in front of him, "I don't want you to go." He licked his lips, "I heard what you said. About changing me." His hand moved to grasp Dean's. "You did good, I asked you to do it before, remember?"

 

Sam looked over at his dad, "I did. I asked Dean to turn me before," he shook his head, "But he wouldn't do it." Sam looked back at Dean, golden hazel looking into green/gold, "Because he's not evil, he's not bad, he's a good person, " He looked over at his dad, "and if you'd give him half a chance you'd know that."

 

Sam looked back at Dean then, leaned in, his mouth near Dean's ear as he whispered, "Stay. I'll go home with you, we'll lay together tonight, under the stars," he smiled, "naked."

"No, you stay with him, bond. I'll come back when you're in your room and we can fuck like bunnies right under his nose," Dean grinned, and defiantly hugged him once. "In the morning, I'll see you then." 

"Okay," he answered softly grabbing Dean's jacket and kissing his lips softly once before letting go, not caring if his dad saw or not. "G'night."

"Always pushing that envelope," Dean muttered, grinning as he walked out to let the Winchesters work their problems out. 

* * *

Sam was just rounding the corner toward his aunt’s house, having been out running errands for her. She'd left him a note and asked if he could do them and seeing as Dean had been busy himself... Sam had went to take care of them.

Panic slammed into Sam as he pulled the Impala into the driveway and saw Dean's Lamborghini and his dad's truck in the driveway. "Oh shit!" Sam parked the car and was out of it, almost before the engine shut off, running toward the house.

 

He was to the door and inside so fast he didn't even have time to finish the horrid scenarios that had begun to play in his head. His father didn’t even turned his head to look at him as he sat in the rocker recliner, his attention on the television. Beside him, on the couch was _Dean_ , both men had a beer can in their hands, their eyes on the football game.

 

Sam stalked over to Dean, snatching the beer can out of his hand and taking a long drink before he glared from his dad to Dean and back, "What the hell is going on!? What is this!?"

Dean didn't mind at all that Sam had taken the beer, he'd been holding it as a prop anyway. "Game," Dean nodded toward the t.v. as if Sam couldn't see for himself. "It's a close one, pull up a chair."

John lifted his beer to his mouth and didn't react to his son's glare. "Sam was always more into soccer."

"Huh." Dean gave him a contemplative look. 

Sam looked from his dad to Dean, and narrowed his eyes at the 'huh', "What the hell is this? Are you two _trying_ to give me a heart attack!? An aneurysm!? Not two days ago you wanted to kill him, dad! And you were scared you'd do something stupid, Dean! Now you two drink beer and watch football!?" Sam raised a hand to his forehead, "I'm in the fucking Twilight Zone," he mumbled, taking another drink of beer, and collapsing onto the couch beside Dean.

"Dude, calm down. It's a _good_ game." Dean slapped him on the shoulder. "But you'd better eat an early dinner."

"That's right. We're invited to the Cullen's for drinks. Cathleen too," John said casually. 

 

Sam's eyes widened and he nearly spewed the beer he had in his mouth, instead he coughed and sputtered.

 

_You invited MY DAD to your HOME!?_

"Seriously, machete's aren't necessary," Dean said, answering John’s mental thought again.

 

 _See!?_ Sam’s expression reflected his thoughts.

John grimaced. "This mind reading of yours is very irritating."

"Not being able to read Sam, now _that's_ irritating."

"I hear you," John raised his can up in salute, as they both laughed and looked at Sam.

 

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, "I suddenly don't think I feel so good."

"You smell good," Dean whispered, his face all innocence, but his eyes sparking with evil. "What could go wrong?" Dean didn't add that thankfully Sam's family wasn't accident prone like Bella so it was unlikely they'd have a ‘shattered glass and blood splatter’ finale to the evening, driving his family to the verge of blood-lust. 

"I'm still bringing the machete."

"Alright. And no, the colt won't work on us." Dean started to chuckle when all three men stood up and shouted at the action on the television.

* * *

The day after John Winchester left town to continue his hunt, it was a sunny day in Forks so all the Cullens were ditching class. Dean followed Sam's scent into the Forest near his house and found him shirtless, arms outstretched, with a smile firmly in place.

"If you twirl around, I'll call you a sparkly fairy... a freakishly tall fairy, but sparkly," Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Do you want a mirror?"

Sam looked down at himself, then over at Dean grinning, "You got one?" he asked him, quirking a brow, before looking back down at himself, running a hand across his abs, glancing up toward the ray of sun that was shining on him. "It's...everywhere." Sam told him, awe in his voice, as he ran his hand from his abs over to his opposite arm. He looked back over at Dean and grinned, "And yes, I looked there too."

"C'mere, let me look too," Dean crooked a finger, shaking his head. 

 

Sam grinned at Dean as he let his arms drop to his sides and stepped closer to him, pulling Dean into his arms, before taking a step backward so they were more in the direct rays of the sun. "Bette,." Sam told him, leaning in and kissing his lips softly. "So, you wanna see me sparkle now huh? Oh wait... no, you just wanna see my sparkly dick," he chuckled.

"That's it... give it up, Sammy." One tug and Sam's jeans were down to his thighs. "Going commando, huh?" Stepping back, Dean admired the view. "Totally hot. Wonder what it would look like in my mouth." Smiling slyly, he reached out and stroked Sam's cock. "Want me to test it?" 

Sam huffed out a small chuckle at Dean's commando comment. He did a lot of things now he’d never done before. He bit his lip at Dean's question, gasped in a breath as Dean started to stroke him, his cock responding immediately. He groaned softly as his eyes closed slowly, before he opened them again, "Yes, God, yes." he answered breathlessly.

"You want me on my knees, between your legs?"

Sam sucked in a breath, nodding. "Yeah, however you want to do it."

"Right here?" Dean moved slightly. "Or here?" He moved another couple feet.

Sam frowned, as he looked at him, bottom lip still caught between straight white teeth. "I don't care."

"Ok. So... you want me to lick you first, before I suck? Or suck you first." His gaze dropped to Sam's sparkling cock, and he wet his lips.

Sam's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "W-why..? Just do it already."

"Okay, sure. But Sam, you want me to start off light... or hard. Makes a difference. I want it to be good for you." He lifted his gaze to Sam's and clamped down on his amusement at the flash of dark in his lover's eyes.

The lust-filled look melted away from Sam's face as he narrowed his eyes at Dean, clenched his jaw tight, muscle twitching. "I don't know, Dean. What do you think I like?" he asked him angrily, quirking a brow before huffing and reaching down, pulling his jeans back up, zipping them and fastening the button. "If you'll excuse me, I was enjoying the sunlight." he stepped around Dean, face tilted up into the suns rays, eyes closed, jaw still clenched.

"Aww, come on." Dean followed and moved in front of Sam, tugging him close by his waistband. "Since when can't you take a little teasing, hmm? I hope you're not getting a vampire temper..." Leaning in, he kissed him, delving his tongue inside Sam's mouth and stroking his pallet, before pulling back. "Are you hungry?" His gaze narrowed, he'd realized that Sam did get moody when he needed to feed.

Sam had his hands on Dean's waist as he kissed him, slowly he slid them around Dean’s back and pulled him in close. "Maybe I just want you," he suggested. Sam nipped Dean's bottom lip, kissed the tip of his chin, his jaw, moving back to his neck slowly. Sam's tongue traced the veins he knew lay just beneath the surface of Dean's skin. Sam moaned softly, his mouth, hot and wet, against Dean's neck, sucking and nipping. "Maybe I am." he murmured against his throat.

"You're definitely hungry. This has to be the equivalent of a vampire on the rag," Dean rolled his eyes. "Let's go inside." In the heat of blood-lust, one or both of them were often out of control and he didn't like the thought of being exposed and maybe unable to think fast enough to hide if anyone came around.

Sam's teeth scraped against the tender flesh of Dean's neck, ignoring Dean's comment about vampire's on the rag, he pulled his head up and nodded, "Yeah, okay."


	16. Chapter 16

The school dance was being held at the gym. The only way Dean had been able to make Sam go was to agree to go with him. Poor Sam had to go shopping twice. The first time, with his great aunt. The second, Dean and Alice had taken him to the City and despite his protests, he now had a tailored designer suit that showed his assets off like no legal suit should.

The party wasn't too bad at first. It had been semi interesting seeing the students' antics on the dance floor, and even more interesting finding ways to sneak kisses and grope each other outside the line of the eagle eyes of the teachers. But after a while, a lot of the kids wandered to the parking lot and started to drink. 

Dean had no objection to Sam drinking, though the guy really couldn't hold his liquor. What he had an objection to was that while Sam had firmly removed Stacy's hand from his body earlier in the evening, now he was letting her have her way with him as if he barely noticed. Well Goddamit, Dean didn't have that same luxury. He fucking noticed every touch, coupled with each of her sexual thoughts about Sam, and he was near exploding point.

Sam was working on his fourth drink. Tom was playing bar tender out of the trunk of his mustang, making Screwdrivers for everyone, and somehow, apparently Tom had missed the part about _more_ orange juice then vodka and was making them the other way around. The drinks turning into nearly clear orange colored liquid that would burn a hole through car metal. 

As he stood leaning back on Tom's car, for support, not that he'd ever _tell_ anyone that, Sam tilted his head back and downed the rest of his fourth screwdriver, while Stacy stood beside him, running one of her hands across the small of his back and the other down his chest, then his thigh. 

He would have moved her hand, well...both of them, he really would have... had he actually really noticed her there. Instead, his attention was on the story Mike was telling about his going to a nudist camp over the summer and not realizing it was a nudist camp...until the chick with the set of double D's had walked over to him and about made him swallow his tongue. Sam was laughing at Mike's wide eyes and his comical descriptions of his predicament, not paying attention to much else... which also meant he didn't see the look on Dean's face as he watched Stacy grope him like he was her own personal tension ball.

Irritation was quickly turning to anger. "Sam." Dean tried to get his attention.

"Don't worry about Stacy, she just gets horny when she drinks... then she forgets everything the next day." 

The too-cheerful voice made Dean want to throttle its owner. And what about Sam? Did he get horny and forget everything when he was drinking?

Sam was still smiling wide when he turned, nearly knocking Stacy over. Only vampire quick reflexes enabled him to grab her around the waist with on hand even as he held one the cup in his other hand out to Tom. "Fill'er up." 

Tom cheerfully took his cup and started to fix him another drink, as Sam leaned back and started to unwrap his arm from around Stacy, only to have her grab it and smile up at him as she pressed herself to Sam's side. "It's okay. I don't mind if you hold me." she told him, smiling flirtatiously up at him.

Dean had it. In a few strides, he was next to them, one hand curling possessively around Sam's arm as he snarled, " _I mind._ Are you through here, Sam?" 

Sam looked over at Dean with a slightly confused look on his face before he smiled crookedly, tilting his head to the side. "Through?" he glanced over at Tom who had frozen with Sam's drink in hand, mid-process of handing it to him. 

"Uh, I can hold onto this." Tom told him, pulling back the drink and turning his attention to what was inside his trunk as though he'd never seen it before. 

Sam looked back at Dean and shrugged, still grinning goofily, "Guess so," he told him, as he pulled his arm away from Stacy and wrapped it around Dean's waist. "Sorry, Stacy, my man wants me." Sam mumbled to her, as he gazed drunkenly into Dean's eyes, then his gaze fell to Dean's lips and Sam licked his own.

"I want you too," she whispered under her breath, reaching for him again.

Dean pulled Sam roughly away. "Get off him bitch." 

Sam staggered forward toward Dean. His arm tightening around Dean to hold him up. Glassy golden hazel eyes widened slightly at Dean's words and he glanced back at Stacy, before returning his attention to Dean, frowning softly.

Her eyes widened in shock, and she put her hand out to hold onto the car.

The insult had slipped out, but Dean wasn't sure he was sorry as he pulled Sam along, forcing him to move at a faster pace. 

Sam staggered away and once they were far enough away, he turned on Dean.   
"What is wrong with you, dude? That wasn't very nice, ya know? She almost fell."

"What's wrong with ME? I stood there and took it for as long as I could, _that's_ what's wrong with me!" Dean raised his voice. "She had her hands all over you, all over Sam and you just ... fuck. It went past the point of funny an hour ago, okay." 

Sam frowned at him, "Yeah, she touched me and I moved her hands away, then I was listening to Mike... I turned and nearly knocked her over. I had to catch her. What did you want me to do? Let her fall on her ass?" Sam raised a brow. 

Slowly, his frown melted into a smirk, then a chuckle bubbled out of him. "You're jealous." Sam accused, shock evident in his eyes. "You're really friggin' jealous." He laughed outright. "Oh wow!" he shook his head, "You don't get it do you? I don't care if she was naked and waiting in my bed for me. I only want _you_." He bit his lip, tilted his head to the side, "it is cute though, you being jealous. I kinda like it."

"I'm not jealous, I'm angry, there's a fucking difference." Sam's knowing look irked him more. "Her hands had no business being on your ass, trying to untie your tie. I'm the only one who gets to do that, Goddamit." As if to prove a point, he fluidly did just that, his gaze traveling heatedly over the sight of Sam now with both his jacket and tie undone. 

Sam smiled at him, his gaze heated with passion as he licked his lips a small smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "Anything else you'd like to undo?" Sam asked him as he reached out, ran a hand down Dean's arm, grabbed his waist and pulled him close. 

"You're right. Only you. I should have paid more attention to what she was doing. Truth is, I was ignoring her." He shrugged, "She wasn't important to me, neither was what she was doing." He leaned closer to Dean, inhaling his scent, "I'm sorry." he said softly, "See? I don't even notice anyone else."

"Would be so much easier if I could just be in your head, not hers." Turning slightly, he brushed his mouth over Sam's, lingering but not invading. "Just... next time we go to one of these... a party... you think you can wear some sort of anti-Stacy spray." 

Sam chuckled and nodded, "Do they sell that in a can?" he asked as they made their way to Dean's car. Sam looked back toward his friends and waved, "Gotta go sex up my boyfriend!" he shouted drunkenly to Tom, who laughed and saluted him with a cup of his strong brew.

"I can't wait till that comment bites you in the ass come Monday." Dean opened the car door and helped Sam fold his long limbs inside. Rolling his eyes at the loud goodbyes thrown their way, Dean moved into the car and took off with his typical speed. 

Sam leaned his head back on the headrest with a sigh, closing his eyes. "I'm glad you came with me., he said smiling softly. Slowly his eyes opened as he looked over at Dean, "I think they all liked you." He chuckled head rolling on the headrest as he closed his eyes again, "Well, most of them."

"I only care about _one_ of them liking me." He gave Sam a pointed look. "So, there's gonna be sexing?" 

Sam had opened his eyes to look at Dean as he spoke, smiling at him. Sam shrugged at Dean's question, "We'll see if I think you deserve it," he said with a grin, snickering. "Hey, I had to _say_ that! I have a reputation to think about after all." 

"I like your rep as it is. Easy." Giving a smug grin, Dean took his hand off the steering wheel and rested it on Sam's thigh, giving it a squeeze. "Besides... I had a daydream when you were trying all the suits on," his tongue darted out briefly. "Can't let it go to waste, can we?"

Sam's eyes widened, "Hey! I am not eas-" he stopped, seeing the grin as Dean squeezed his thigh. He quirked a brow. "I think you just make these up as we go along now," he said, eyes narrowed. Not that he minded. His hand moved to Dean's thigh, his thumb grazing against the bulge there as Sam leaned over toward him slightly. "And I had this dream that I blew you while you were driving." He licked his lips, his eyes falling to look at Dean's crotch before looking back into his eyes.

"Are you waiting for an invitation?" Dean groaned as his house came into sight. "Hold that thought, we'll need to drive out of state sometime and make sure that dream comes through." Or he’d need to drive a helluvalot slower.

A few seconds later, he'd parked and was pulling Sam out of the car, cursing under his breath. Feeling Sam's gaze, he shook his head. "Vampire moment... cat... now all I want is for your mouth--" 

Sam smiled at him, eyes darkening as his gaze lowered to Dean's crotch again.

"Did you have fun?" 

Sam looked away, past Dean toward the house.

It was Alice, pushing the door open for them. 

He looked back at Dean and smirked, "We did." he called out to her, then as he gazed at Dean, spoke lower, "Were about to have more."

"I'll get the earplugs," she sighed.

Dean shook his head. Sam still forgot about their hearing, not that he gave a damn. It was a way of life for them. Putting his arm behind Sam's back, he started to walk him to the stairs. 

Sam chuckled at Alice's comment. "Those aren't for me, you know." Sam insisted, "We break things. It's _not_ because I'm loud." he said as he looked at Dean, eyes narrowed, daring him to say otherwise.

"Sam, you're fucking loud. Even if you were quiet as a mouse, we'd all hear you... but you're no mouse, more like a..."

"A moose, calling his mate," Emmet said from the living room, not even bothering to come out.

"Nah, he's louder." Leaning close to Sam's ear, Dean added, "I like you wild and loud... let's go make some sounds."

Sam was frowning hard at all of them. Dean, more so than anyone, wasn't suppose to say he was loud. But with his last comment, Sam's frown fell away. He grinned at him, grabbing for his hand to head toward the stairs. 

As they passed Emmet, Sam shot him a dirty look, pointing at Rosalie, " _She's_ louder!" he told him, before nearly pulling Dean up the stairs.

"He's drunk," Dean called out in Sam's defense. "Boy when you screw up... of all of them to insult. Just when you started to get along," but he was laughing. They reached his room, which had now been rearranged to include a king sized bed that was used for everything but sleeping. The instant he had the door closed behind him, he started shrugging out of his jacked. "Now that you have me up here, what are you gonna do with me?" 

Sam smiled at him, as he turned to walk back toward Dean, dropping down to his knees before him he reached up unfastening Dean's dress pants, slowly sliding the zipper down as he looked up into Dean's eyes. 

Sam pushed Dean's pants open, as he leaned forward, his mouth against Dean's cotton clad cock and breathed out a warm breath against him before taking him into his mouth through the material, then pulling back. He looked back up at Dean, a smirk pulling at his lips, "I thought I'd tease you a while until I wasn't the only one they called loud."

"Good plan," Dean croaked at the brief and unsatisfying press of Sam's mouth along his shaft. "But I don't have the legendary Winchester vocal cords, not sure I can compete." Staring down into Sam's eyes, he ran his hands down both sides of his face, then cupped his hands around Sam's neck, pulling him forward. "So if we were driving, and I was trying to concentrate because the roads were real windy and we had no idea where we were going, you'd do what, now?" He bit his lower lip in anticipation. 

Sam's smirk never left his lips as he gazed at Dean. As he pulled him forward again, Sam nuzzled against Dean's groin, then pulled back, his hands going to the waistband of Dean's pants and boxers, pulling them down to his knees in one tug. Sam moved his hand to Dean's dick, long fingers wrapping around his length, pumping slowly as he ran his tongue across the tip, dipping into the slit. He released him, running his tongue up his length, circling his tongue around the head before taking him into his mouth, just the crown, tongue flicking against the tip, licking, stroking, then pulling back again. 

Grasping him in one hand and pumping slowly once more, Sam leaned in, lower, licking a trail down to Dean's balls, tongue pressing and releasing, before sucking first one then the other into his mouth. 

Pulling back again, Sam looked up at Dean, eyes dark, passion heavy. "I thought of starting like that." he said softly, voice husky.

"Oh God... you're gonna get us into an accident," Dean groaned. "Holy fuck... you stopped. You can't stop, Sammy, you can't..." Here he'd thought Sam was too tipsy to play too many games, hah. Tugging on Sam, he nudged his cock against his mouth. "Then what, Sam, tell me." He was hard and aching to be back inside the wet heat of Sam's mouth, fucking it until he was mindless with need. "Tell me... show me."

Sam smirked and took Dean back into his mouth, but again, just the head, just enough to tease with his tongue, flicking and sucking him hard, his hand wrapped around Dean's length moving again, slow teasing strokes. Pulling his mouth off with a =pop=, Sam licked his tongue across the tip, opened his hand, and ran his tongue down Dean's length then back up. 

Quickly and without warning, Sam deep throated Dean's cock, swallowing his length, humming softly, vibrating the back of his throat against the head of Dean's dick. He sucked him hard, one hand working him, faster now, his other hand cupped Dean's balls, rolling them in his fingers, running his short nails up the underside of Dean's sac before cupping him again, squeezing gently, all while his mouth and hand worked his cock.

The sudden shift from too-soft touches to almost too-hard drew a loud half-shout half-groan from Dean who grabbed handfuls of Sam's hair to steady himself. "Oh God Sam, good, so good," he started to ride Sam's mouth, thrusting hard, trying to ease the burning need. Time stood still as he took and received what he so badly needed, easing in and out of Sam's mouth until he was close to the edge, so fucking close. "Enough!" 

Sam pulled away, Dean's cock falling from his swollen lips as he looked up at Dean, lids passion heavy, eyes dark and lust-filled. He gazed up at Dean in confusion, lips still wet, slightly parted.

"I want to come inside you tonight. I want you to come with me," Dean explained, his voice strained as he kicked his pants off and stepped out of them. 

Sam licked his lips, bit his lower lip and nodded at him before pulling to his feet, hands on his pants fastenings as he started to strip only to have Dean stop him. Sam looked up, slightly confused, as his hands fell away from his zipper. "Dean?"

"Don't." The single command had the crack of a whip. Dean gave him a dangerous look, " _I'm_ going to undress you. Any arguments?" 

Sam licked his lips, shook his head, "No. No arguments."  
There wasn't much they hadn't done since Sam had awaken as a vampire. Sex with actual penetration was one of them, the biggest one, but this was also a new one. Usually they would both just start pulling and tearing clothes off, their own, each others’, all at once. But, now, Dean was already mostly undressed, and if Sam wasn't suppose to help... Sam's hands clenched into fists at his sides as he took in a deep breath, waiting for Dean to undress him.

As he watched Sam standing there, off balance, unsure... waiting for him, fists clenching and unclenching, mouth parted and sucking in shallow breaths, a wild heat rose in Dean. In two strides, he was in front of Sam, undoing his tie the rest of the way and letting it hang loose around his neck. Just as suddenly, he peeled Sam's jacket half way off, basically trapping Sam's arms, and his own, behind Sam's back as he leaned in hard, bringing their mouths together in a bruising kiss. Without the use of their hands, they mindlessly rubbed their bodies against each other, grinding, creating more friction, practically fighting to get more of each other, fighting to get impossibly closer. 

Though Sam’s arms were trapped behind him in the material of his jacket, the material would not have held him had he not wanted it to, but something about it added to the erotic electricity that seemed to have filled the room. As Dean's mouth claimed his, Sam couldn't stifle the moan that sounded deep in his throat as dark eyes slid slowly closed.   
Instinct, mindless, passionate instinct had him thrusting up against Dean, as they kissed, each devouring the other, tongues tangled, teeth clanking together as they seemed to try to get closer even in the kiss. 

Sam could feel Dean's arousal against his own impossibly hard shaft through his pants, sliding against each other with the material as a barrier between them, reminding him that not long ago, they couldn’t go beyond this. Needful sounds escaped Sam's mouth, as he ground his body against Dean's hands clenched into hard fists behind his back. Deep growls sounded in his throat as he tried to get ever closer. Finally, Sam tore his mouth away from Dean's unable to continue any longer. His breathing, hard and uneven, as he gazed at Dean through impossibly dark inky black eyes, lips parted, face flushed. "Finish it." The words were a whispered command, a plea, as Sam's hips thrust again against Dean's as if to show him just how hard he was.

Dropping the jacket to the ground and stepping back slightly, Dean ran a shaky hand over Sam's face, his thumb lingering on his reddened and swollen lips. Eyes locked with Sam's, he started to unbutton Sam's shirt, giving him a warning growl when he thought he was going to try to shrug it off. "Leave it." When the buttons gave him trouble, he roughly parted the material, letting the buttons pop and fall to the ground. 

Sam watched Dean through heavy lidded dark eyes, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath he took, lips parted.

Dean’s throat constricted at the sight of a thin sliver of flesh peeking out between the folds of the dress shirt. Swallowing, he stroked down from Sam's corded chest to the hem of his pants, and undid them, brushing his hand over his hard shaft.   
As Dean touched him, ever so softly, too softly, too gently, Sam drew in a deep unsteady breath, tilting his head back for a moment as he bit his lip, then lowered his head, watching Dean. He had never wanted out of his clothes more in his entire life then he did then. Wanted another's touch more than he did then. _Craved_ another as much as he did Dean. His stomach muscles twitched, his cock pulsed as Dean ran his hand over him through the material as he slowly unzipped him, eliciting a soft moan from Sam. He swallowed hard as his dark eyes drank in the site of his vampire lover.

A moment later, Dean had the pants and boxers off. So hard, his mate was so hard for him, his entire body tense with anticipation, his eyes dark and filled with the craving to be touched. Never had he been as certain that Sam was his, and that he was Sam’s. 

Gripping the two ends of Sam's tie, he rolled them around his fists, drawing Sam close and kissing him again as he walked backwards toward the bed, pulling Sam with him. 

Sam moaned, eyes closing slowly as his hands came up, arms wrapping around Dean, fingers of one hand threading through his short soft hair, the other lay at the small of Dean's back, thumb making lazy circles, needing the distraction, however small, as they kissed and tried to walk.

Pulling the tie completely off, Dean dropped it to the floor. "Get on the bed," he said, his voice husky with need.

As Sam complied, Dean finished stripping and walked across the room to reposition a standing mirror. Biting his own lip at the thought of seeing himself and Sam go all the way, in every sense of the word, he became more impatient. An instant later, he joined Sam on the bed, straddling his waist and rubbing his arousal into his stomach as they kissed again, before rolling off. "Get on your knees. Hold onto that, he said, jutting his chin toward the footboard. 

As Dean rolled away, Sam turned his head to watch him, swallowed hard as he slowly moved to do as Dean asked. Sam knelt at the foot of the bed, tail end of the back of his dress shirt covering most of his sculpted ass, outlining his wide shoulders, his hands grasping the foot board, knuckles nearly turning white as he looked back over his shoulder at Dean. Sam licked his lips, his mouth suddenly gone dry.

On his knees, behind Sam, Dean ran his hands up and down the backs of Sam's thighs, and over his tight ass, before putting his hands lightly on his shoulders and fitting his body behind him. With his cock lodged at the cleft of Sam's ass, Dean ran his fingertips up and down Sam's chest, dipping under the shirt and looking into the mirror. "Wicked hot, Sammy," he whispered, rubbing against him, then slanting his mouth over Sam's in a heated kiss. 

Sam looked down for a brief moment as Dean's hands ran over him, hissing in a breath, before his head raised, eyes closing for a moment. Biting his lip, Sam gasped as Dean fit his body against his own, breaths coming faster, eye lids passion heavy. His teeth ached, his cock, hard and heavy as he tightened his grip on the foot board. 

Sam glanced into the mirror at Dean's words, before his eyes slid slowly shut, head tipping back to lay against Dean's shoulder, turning to face him. Dean was kissing him then, their tongues sliding against each other, a soft moan sounding in Sam's throat. 

His body, his instincts said to go fast, but Dean wanted this moment to last forever. To be burned indelibly in both their minds. As he slid his tongue in and out of Sam's mouth, he paused, and deliberately pressed against Sam's fangs hard enough to taste his blood and to feel the sudden tension rise in his lover. 

At the first taste of Dean's blood, Sam tensed all over, a deep groan sounding in his throat. _Oh God.._ Was it wrong that he wanted to drink from Dean just as badly as he wanted to love him, to feel him? Was it wrong that it was getting hazy as to where one craving ended and the other began?

Sam released the foot board and brought his arm up to circle around Dean's neck behind him, pulling him closer, that mouth, that sweet mouth, and his blood. _DeanDeanDean..._

This time, when Sam sucked on his tongue, Dean's head was filled with more than the torturous image Sam sucking him off. Now there was blood lust inflaming his other needs, sharpening his desire. It took every shred of control he'd developed to hold back, to rub himself against Sam and touch him, his chest, his abs, to brush his cock and deliberately keep him hard, without pushing inside him... without racing toward a much needed release.

When he drew back, Sam's protest was almost his undoing. He looked in the mirror again as he started to slide Sam's shirt off his shoulders. "I love you, Sam." He brushed his mouth over Sam's ear. "It took a hundred years to find you... the right one... and I'm never letting go." 

He didn't want Dean to stop kissing him, didn't want to stop sucking his tongue, tasting of his blood, didn't want it to end. He gave a whimper, his look pleading, begging Dean for more, even as he slowly slid his hand back down, trailing it across Dean's body as he did, down his neck, his chest, before turning back straight to grasp the foot board again, head hanging as he bit his lip. 

Sam lifted his head, Dean's profession of his love sending heat through his body that pooled in his groin, making him moan softly, eyes closing briefly. Sam turned at the waist, letting go of the foot board, his hands cupping Dean's face. "I love you, Dean, so very much. Forever yours." Sam whispered before slanting his mouth over Dean's, kissing him deeply, with deliberate slowness, gentleness, putting all of his love into that one kiss.

Ever since this one boy had walked into town, Dean's world had narrowed. He'd become Dean's focal point, his center. Now he knew beyond all doubt that this was something that would never change. He'd never get enough of Sam, of how he tasted, how he felt. Of how he kissed, and how he went from gentle to ferocious, from laid back into a thunderous mood when he needed to be fed, and how he could make him laugh. Make him moan with need, like now. Dean could barely recognize his own voice.

When their lips parted, Dean picked up the lube and slathered it first on Sam's cock, then his own. It wasn't necessary, but he wanted a good glide. "Open your legs, Sammy." 

Sam bit his lip as he spread his legs wider, gripped the foot board as he turned back around, head hanging.

Parting Sam's cheeks, he aligned his cock, nudging at Sam's tight hole. Gripping his hip, he looked up at the mirror, and in a single thrust, worked most of his cock inside Sam, groaning as his lover closed tight around him. "So fucking tight." He pushed in further, and once he was buried to the hilt, he wrapped his fingers around Sam's shaft and started to move.

 

Feeling the head of Dean's cock at his tight hole, Sam lifted his head, looking at Dean in the mirror. Lips parted in an audible gasp as Dean entered him, a low groan escaping as he bit his lip, digits tightening around the footboard. Sam panted out his breaths, head hanging, eyes closed, until Dean was completely sheathed inside of him, until his hand encased Sam's cock and started to move. Sam raised his head then, dark, inky black eyes watched Dean in the mirror as he moaned, his head soon falling back to Dean's shoulder as Sam reached back with one hand, wrapping it around Dean's waist, pulling him in closer. "So full, so fucking good." Sam whispered as he pushed back against Dean's cock, wanting more.

Dean rocked harder into Sam, pulling out part way, and burying himself again. His cock ached and throbbed so bad it was a struggle to hold back. He tried to concentrate on moving his hand, stroking Sam's cock, on Sam's reactions. It didn't help, because the soft sounds from Sam just had him wound up tighter. He couldn't help it, he started to fuck a little harder, moving his mouth up and down the side of Sam's throat. Unconsciously, he used his tongue to trace Sam's vein, swirling it over his lover's now jumping pulse. "God Sam... oh God..." 

Sam was in a mindless haze, pleasure fogged his brain as he closed his eyes, moaning and gasping with each thrust. Dean hitting a point inside of him that sent pleasure shooting though out his body, making him groan, his hand on Dean's lower back tightening it's grasp. The hand on his cock, moving in time with Dean's thrusts, had him aching, his body throbbing, wanting more. 

Feeling Dean's mouth on his neck, his teeth scraping along his tender flesh, tongue tracing his veins, swirling over the pulse point, Sam slowly released the foot board with his other hand, bringing it up to wrap around Dean's neck, as he turned his head to kiss him. "Don't baby, please." Sam whispered softly, before slanting his mouth over Dean's.  
The kiss wasn't the most well orchestrated with the way Sam was bending, the angle was off, and their thrusting and pushing back movements made their mouths hit and miss, but it was enough as tongues tangled even out of their mouths between them.

As their tongues stroked, and their bodies collided and ground together, white hot heat inched through Dean's veins. The kiss distracted him for a little while, but his need was still there, still building... Sam's blood was still singing in his ears. "Why," he took a labored breath. "Need you," he pressed, dragging his teeth back along the soft column of Sam's throat. "You want it... I can feel it." He squeezed Sam's arousal, which had gotten impossibly harder. "What are you thinking? Tell me." The craving was so strong, it was only his deeper need to know that stopped him from sinking his teeth.

Sam made a strangled whimper sound deep in his throat as Dean dragged his teeth back along his throat. He squeezed his eyes closed, lips parted as his breaths panted out, his body reacting to the idea of Dean doing just that, drinking his blood. His cock got harder, his teeth ached more, heat seemed to course through him as he lowered his arm from around Dean's neck, grasping the footboard again. 

Oh God, yes he wanted it. Every cell in his body screamed out for it. But, he had to think clearly about this. It was bad enough that Dean had to drink it to change him, to save him. There was no reason to taint him with more of it. Sam groaned as Dean squeezed his shaft, his hips bucked, body pressing back against Dean, as he gasped softly. 

Sam shook his head slightly, eyes opening to look at Dean in the mirror, "Tainted," he panted out the word softly, "Bad enough, had to," Sam swallowed, "....already." Sam's neck arched on Dean's shoulder, fingers tightening on the footboard.

If they hadn't been so wrapped up in each other, Dean would have sat back in shock. He'd thought they were over with that nonsense. "Don't," he fucked harder, "don't you say that. Don't you fucking think that, Sam. You're not tainted. Nothing wrong with your blood, nothing. _I want it._ " He didn't ask again, he didn't expect Sam to fight him. He swirled his tongue over satiny soft skin, pulsing against it as the sound of Sam's rushing blood slowly drove him to the edge of madness. His teeth ached so bad... he pressed them down, cleanly piercing through Sam's skin, and moaning at the first gush of his lover's tangy life essence. 

Sam frowned, brows drawing together as he bit his lip. No, no, no, Dean was wrong, he knew better. Didn't he listen? Didn't he realize what he was? He was a freak vampire because of what he was, The boy with the demon blood. Not human, not vampire, but something in between. Dean hadn't done that. His tainted blood had. 

Sam gasped at the feel of Dean's tongue once again on his neck, at his pulse. _No, baby, no._ Even as he thought it, his body screamed out for Dean to do it, to drink, take his blood. He bit his lip, closing his eyes tightly just as Dean's fangs pierced his throat. Sam gasped, a groan leaving him soon after, his back arching against Dean. His eyes opening wide, lips parted as he panted out his breaths. _Ohmygod!_

Everything he wanted. Everything he needed. The answer to Dean's every addiction was in his arms, in his hand, taking him deep inside his body and giving him the gift of his blood. There was nothing else Dean needed. Nothing. 

Sam fingers on the foot board tightened until he was sure he'd warped the metal, not that he could bring himself to care as he gasped and panted, writhed and grasped at Dean with the one arm that was wrapped around behind him. "Oh my God, Dean!" the words came out in a rush. Sam felt heat pool low in his belly, his balls draw up impossibly tight. Quickly, Sam released the footboard, grasping Dean's hand around his cock, stilling it. "Not yet, Oh God, not yet. Wanna come with you." he panted out. Sam gulped in air, licked his lips, swallowing, as he squeezed his eyes closed. His breath coming out in a groaned, 'Gah!'

Gripped in the red haze of blood lust, Dean was desire's bitch. His head swam with the taste of Sam, his cock branding his lover over and over, his hand showing him who he belonged to. His motions became more desperate, more frenzied, until Sam's words broke through to his consciousness. Groaning, he pulled his mouth off, and licked the small wound that was already closing. 

One look at Sam's reflection and it was like the floodgates opened. Growling out his need, Dean gripped Sam's hip tighter and started to fuck... to pound into him so hard Sam had to push back to prevent them from hitting the foot board. "More... need more," he cried, grinding his hips that much harder, driven to the edge of desperation. "Sam..." 

Sam’s eyes opened as Dean began to fuck harder, pounding into him jarring his body, until Sam had to release Dean and grip the footboard with both hands, pushing back against him. Sam's head tilted back, lips parted as he gasped and moaned, bit his lip. 

Sam's head fell forward, eyes closing as ground himself back against Dean, growling deep in this throat. Pushing against the footboard until the metal started to bend.

Somehow, Dean was pushed back, collapsing on his back, still holding Sam on top of him, and they were both digging their heels into the mattress. He lifted his hips higher and higher as Sam ground himself down on him. "Yes, yes..." his hand moved back over Sam's cock and he started to stroke in earnest, the sounds coming from Sam whipping up his frenzy. 

Sam made growled from deep in his throat as he ground himself back against Dean, against his cock, taking him as deeply as he could, teeth clenched together, lips parted, eyes open, head raised slightly, he looked down at himself. He let his head collapse back, falling onto the pillow under them, behind them, making his neck arch. His breaths panted out through parted lips that his tongue quickly darted out to lick. Hips thrust his cock up into Dean's hand even as he continued to grind himself back onto his cock. "Fuck," the word was choked, husky, "Dean..." Sam tilted his head back even more, as his hands blindly searched for a place to hold onto, running over Dean's sides behind him, gripping his hips.

"Oh yeah," Dean answered, arching practically off the mattress, "God yeah..." They thrashed, and moved together, and groped, trying to get closer, straining, reaching, craving release. He was way past his breaking point, and yet the pressure kept building and building, winding him tighter. Dean thought he was gonna go crazy, so fucking crazy with need. Nothing had prepared him for this, for the intensity of this stark hunger, the terrible urgency building within him. Unable to take it a moment longer, he wrapped his arm around Sam's waist, holding him tight as he rolled them over. "Fuck," he cursed as he fucked Sam hard from behind, pounding into him, gritting his teeth against the pleasure pain. "Fuck... Sam..."

 

Apparently stopping Dean before hadn't been necessary, as Sam's body seemed intent on keeping him just at the edge not willing to allow him to go over it. His body cried out for the release it craved it but still he hung there on the edge of that sweet abyss. Sam groaned, moaning with the pleasure pain of it, breaths coming fast and hard he was in danger of hyperventilating. 

Sam arched, his back low like a lazy cat stretching, as he raised his chest up off the bed with his forearms. Head turned to the side, "Fuck...Oh God..." He pressed back against Dean with each thrust. A low growl sounded in Sam's throat as he pushed against the mattress hard, sending them both rolling over and off the bed, crashing to the floor with a loud =Boom!=, a lamp and marble statue fell from the bedside table onto the floor with them, shattering loudly. 

They landed with Dean flat on his back, Sam on top of him as they had been before, on the bed. Sam ground back against Dean, even with falling they didn't seem too fazed.

Dean's hands moved possessively over Sam, fingers digging into his flesh, relaxing and digging in again. He touched him everywhere, chest, hips, thighs, mercilessly pulling on him each time he raised his hips. "Enough!"

Putting his palms on the floor, he suddenly pushed up to a semi sitting position, his cock still lodged deep inside Sam. Using the leverage, he pushed harder, setting a punishing pace, burning up as Sam clenched around him, milking his cock. "Now... now, Sammy... now," he demanded, grinding his hips, literally shaking as white hot heat laced through him and he started to release, hard and fast. 

Sam's head thrashed as he grit his teeth, fingertip digging into Dean's hips as he gripped him tightly. W hen Dean sat up part way, Sam gasped softly, head hanging, eyes closing as he licked his lips, swallowed and moaned, pushing back against Dean, his hips thrusting up into his hand. 

Blissfully, Sam's body allowed him to step off the cliff he'd been dangling on, his body arching, then slamming back against Dean's as he started to come, a grunted growl leaving him, before he cried out Dean's name. Head falling back against Dean's shoulder as his hips moved faster, erraticly, as he rode out the strongest orgasm of his life. Rope after rope spilling over onto Dean's hand, his own belly, as he gasped and panted, body trembling. 

* 

Down stairs, Rosalie looked up at the ceiling as they all heard the crash and wrinkled her delicate nose. " _What_ are they doing up there?" 

Alice snickered softly, but didn't look up from the book she was reading. 

"They're gonna come through the ceiling, you know?" Rosalie whined. 

Carlisle glanced up from his medical journal and shook his head, "No, they won't." 

Esme covered her smirk with the back of her hand and turned the page of her magazine. 

Emmet sat with a grin on his face, shaking his head. 

Jasper just continued to stare straight ahead at some unseen point. 

Then hearing Sam cry out, they all jumped slightly. "Good God!" Rosalie spat, frowning at the ceiling. 

Alice looked up from her book, "It's... sweet." 

Esme, coughed into her hand as did Carlisle. 

Jasper just looked scared and Emmet cracked up laughing and looked over at Rosale, "No, he's still louder than you." 

His comment got him an unceremonious and hard punch to the ribs.  
* 

 

Dean hung onto Sam, refusing to allow him to move away as the last remnants of his orgasm crashed over him in waves. "Un...fucking...believable, Sammy. It was.... better than any dream. Better than anything." He nuzzled Sam's neck, then kissed his shoulder, rolling them onto their sides so he was spooning Sam, hard floor be damned. He swallowed, then whispered. "Tell me what you're thinking."  
Sam was gasping in air, his lungs couldn't seem to get enough of the stuff into his body. He could only nod at Dean's words as he swallowed hard, his breath coming out in a rush as he drew another in. "So good... so perfect." he agreed breathlessly. 

Blinking repeatedly, Sam opened his eyes as Dean rolled them, reaching back to hold Dean against him. "Oh God..." the words breathless, "Love you." 

Sam chuckled, "Thinking? Now?" he asked him, licked his lips, "I'm thinking that you killed me, but it's okay," he nodded, "I died doing something I loved, it was a good way to die." He swallowed and turned his head slightly to look back at Dean, shook his head. "Not thinking much of anything. Let me catch up and I'll tell you." He grinned, lifting his head to slant his mouth over Dean's as well as he could from that angle.

"Mmmm." Slipping his tongue inside the corner of Sam's mouth, Dean smiled. His hand stroked lazily up and down Sam's chest as they managed the kiss somehow. "I like those thoughts. Like 'em a lot." He rested his forehead on Sam's shoulder. "Sam? Carlisle wants to know whether he needs to build a sex romp room for you... a couple miles away." Well, maybe the thought had been directed at both of them, but teasing Sam was too much fun to bypass. 

Sam's eyes widened as he looked back at Dean, "He _what_!?" Sam laid his head down, forehead against the floor as he groaned as if in pain, slowly bringing one arm up to circle his head, burying his face as he blushed a deep shade of crimson. "I'm never going downstairs again."

"Yes you are." Dean hugged him. "You're getting me some of that disgusting cherry pie you have in the fridge." Running his tongue along the side of Sam's neck, he slowly withdrew from his body. "After you catch your breath," he gave a smug laugh.

Sam slowly rolled his forehead against the floor, peeking out at Dean and sighed, "They're all gonna look at me funny," he pouted. Slowly pulling his head up, Sam sighed, "From now on maybe you ought to just gag me. Then they won't hear me.... as much." he frowned, letting himself slump over onto the floor again with a whine.

After a moment, he peeked out at Dean again, "Pie? You want pie?" he quirked a brow, pulling himself up, "You're actually going to _eat_ pie?" he asked him, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Blech, no." His eyes slid to Sam's. "Maybe I'll just... lick the sauce off you. What? It's red... goes with the vampire stuff." Refusing to admit any liking for it, he sat and pulled himself up. 

Sam chuckled, shook his head. "Red... vampire stuff... right. No, I think you're just kinky and want an excuse to pour things on me. Want me to get the maple syrup too? Some whipped cream? Chocolate sprinkles? You could make yourself a Sam sundae." he smirked, barely holding back his snicker.

Dean gave a visible shudder, putting his hands up as if in defense.

Sam waved a hand as he pulled up, "Fine, I'll go." he told him as he slowly pulled to his feet, wishing he could just stay there on the floor with Dean. Looking around the room, Sam quirked a brow, licked his lips. "I guess this means I gotta get dressed again..." his lips curved into a naughty smirk, "Unless you want me to go down like this..."

"Just pull some jeans on, or wrap a towel around your waist. Believe me, even if you go naked, no one will blink... they've seen it all over the years." Course that said nothing about his own feelings on others getting eyefuls of _his_ Sam. Smacking his ass lightly, he added. "Hurry back."

Sam huffed softly as he went to a drawer and grabbed a pair of his jeans he kept at Dean's. There was no way he would have fit into Dean's jeans. Just no way. Slipping them on comando and not even bothering to fasten them, Sam headed for the door. "Yeah yeah," he grumbled, "You and your pie." 

As Sam walked down the hall and the stairs his mind started working, wondering about when Dean and his father had been sitting there watching the football game, drinking beers, well, his Dad had been drinking, Dean had just kinda been a life sized coaster for his can. 

His forehead wrinkled as he frowned thinking about it, brows drawing together. What had made them so 'buddy-buddy' all of the sudden and what were the replies Dean kept telling his dad, that John never voiced, but kept looking uncomfortable about? 

He was on his way back up to Dean's room, those thoughts still heavy on his mind when Alice called out to him, "Everything okay?" 

Sam stopped in mid-step, halfway up the stairs and looked back at her, giving her a nod, "Dean wanted pie." he told her, before turning and hurrying up the rest of the stairs, not even seeing the open mouthed shock on Alice's face at his words.  
Sam walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He looked back at Dean, still frowning. He licked his lips and tilted his head to the side as he walked over, plate of pie in hand, "What exactly happened to get you and my Dad so 'buddy-buddy' before? And what did you keep answering?" Sam shook his head, "He never said anything out loud, I know you were reading his mind, what was he thinking about?" 

"Huh?" He ignored the questions, and patted the bed, so Sam would come sit next to him. "Gimme my pie."

Sam looked at him for a moment, noticed that he wasn't even looking up at him much, his eyes not meeting Sam's own. He clenched his jaw, muscle twitching as he raised his head slightly to that stubborn angle as he walked over to the bed and handed Dean his pie, but remained standing, arms crossing over his chest. Once Dean took the plate, Sam took a step back. "I asked you what was going on with you and my father. What did you keep answering that he wasn't saying, that had him looking miserable."

"Sam, this isn't the time." Letting out a heavy breath, he reached out and grabbed his hand, literally pulling him to the bed. "Just the usual 'dad to person dating his son' type of thing, only with a hunter with rocks the size of Texas."

Sam stumble-stepped to the bed, his arms falling to his sides as Dean pulled him over. He narrowed his eyes at him and shook his head slowly, "No. I don't buy that. My dad doesn't look miserable over my dating... _anyone_ , not even a vampire." he licked his lips, "Cause he kinda had to come to terms with the fact that I was one too, so, uh-uh, try again."

"Maybe it's your dad you should be grilling." His gaze swept over Sam's face, and he was torn. Sometimes ignorance was bliss. "I'm hungry... and getting hungrier," he rubbed the pad of his thumb across Sam's palm, feeling his pulse jump slightly in response. 

Sam closed his eyes, bit back the moan that was lodged in his throat. Opening his eyes he cleared his throat, shook his head, "Not gonna work, you're not gonna distract me from this. And if my Dad was here, I would be 'grilling' him. But, he's not, _you_ are. And you're supposed to be the one who loves me enough to tell me anything. So, what's the deal, Dean? What's so bad that you don't want me to know?" he sighed, "Tell me. Please."

"I do love you. I just don't want you freaked out over stupid things. Like you are over the demon blood thing. You... you're worse than me, obsessing about things," he gestured with his arms, trying to find a way to get out of the conversation. "Sit down, Sam. No, make that lay down. So many things I still want to try with you, and the night’s not half over yet."

Sam huffed, "Stupid things?" he thought that was a pretty _big_ thing, but he wasn't going to argue that point right now, there was another matter at hand at the moment. 

Slowly, Sam moved to sit on the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off, one curled under him. Sam started to lay back, pull his leg up onto the bed, then stopped, sitting back up again as he shook his head, narrowed his eyes. "No, Dean." his jaw clenched again, chin raising up a notch, "After you tell me, you can do whatever you want to me, with me," he shook his head, eyes still narrowed, "But not until."

"You're blackmailing me?" That irked him. Yeah, he hated not knowing what was in Sam's mind, but Goddamnit, this was different. Sam wasn't used to knowing, so he should be able to handle not knowing. Yeah... that was dumb. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, and looked up. 

"Sam." The look in his lover's eyes said he wouldn't relent. Dean's jaw pulsed. "He said ... Goddamit, he said it was my job now to kill you if I had to... if you went evil. That's what he said," he practically shouted, angry at having had to repeat those words.

Sam felt like he'd been sucker punched, the hard look melting off his face, replaced by one of pain as he took in a shakey breath, eyes moist with tears as he hung his head, nodding. He licked his lips, drew in a breath, opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it closed again, knowing he would be unable to control the emotion in his voice if he were to say anything just yet. 

Eventually, he turned his head, looking away, toward the bedroom door. "He said that?" the words whisper soft, broken, fighting back the feelings of shock, of horror, of revulsion at himself. His own father had said that, believed that about him... it was possible, that he would become evil... something he had always fought against. 

Tilting his head back, Sam gave a harsh laugh, "Bet he's glad he doesn't have to be the one to do it now." Looking over at Dean, he shrugged, "Kinda hard to kill your own kid even if he is evil, I guess."

"Sam..." Dean pulled him into his arms, and held him, the pie forgotten. "I read him. He wanted to believe he could do it, but he never would have. And yeah, he was kinda relieved, but more determined than ever to kill that thing." He brushed Sam's hair out of his eyes. "You're _not_ evil. He doesn't think you're evil, it was just a contingency plan if certain things happened, and they haven't, dammit." 

Sam didn't fight Dean as he pulled him into his arms, holding him. Needing something solid to grab onto even as his worst nightmare was coming true. 

He pushed away from Dean, drawing back slightly, "What _things_? What hasn't happened?" Sam asked him, eyes widening slightly, pulse jumping as he looked Dean in the eye.

"I don't know exactly. He thinks the demon will come back and try to influence you somehow. It's not gonna happen, you hear me Sam. Stop it... You have me, you have all of us and your dad to protect you. Nothing's gonna happen, nothing." He closed his iron grip around Sam's wrist, "You can't let this derail you. You're stronger than this. Hell, you walked into a house of blood sucking vampires without a fucking weapon without blinking an eye... this is _nothing_ compared to that. Do you hear me, Sam, nothing." 

Sam smiled sadly as he looked from Dean's face to his hand on his wrist, then back again. "House full of _sweet_ blood sucking vampires," he corrected, then shook his head, "there's nothing sweet about yellow eyes." Sam wiped his eyes with the back of his free hand. "I should be out there, hunting him. I have to think about you now, and your family. I don't want anything to happen to you like my Mom."

"Dude, I'm not your mom... I'm not human... I'm almost indestructible. Maybe... it makes sense that you chose me, hmm? Maybe that's why your dad wasn't mad... well he got over it so fucking fast, for someone as stubborn as him." Gruff words, but Dean was gentle as he used his thumb to wipe the rest of Sam's tears away. 

"You put a lot of stock into what's going to happen, like it's set in stone. It's not like that, life. You've seen how Alice works, you're the one who told me not to listen, that we could change _the ending_." He cupped Sam's face and made him look at him. "So, what if the blood the demon fed you was tainted. He intended it to work one way, right? Then seventeen years later you go and do the complete opposite of any hunter's son... you fall for a vamp, and worse, you're vamped. Now what? That curse, that so-called taint, it turned out to be a fucking Godsend. You know what every vampire's holy grail is? To be human-like, and yet keep all the other benefits of being a vampire. Well you got that, Sam. And you changed whatever that demon had planned for you, I feel it in my gut. And if you have any questions about it, we can have Alice keep looking into the future, if that future is going to come, we'll fucking nip it in the bud... find a way and do it, and... and how the hell do you keep getting me to make long assed speeches?" 

Sam listened, really listened to Dean, as he sniffled and tried to look away. In the end however, he wound up laughing at Dean before leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. "I like the sound of your voice. You're too quiet." Sam grinned at him.

Dean snorted, holding him close in relief. "Sound of my voice. What else do you like, Sam?"

Sam smiled, as he ran a hand down the side of Dean's face, reached up and threaded his fingers through his short hair. "Mm... I like your lips," he kissed them to prove it, "I like your hands," he placed one over his groin, "I like the way you look at me, especially when you're in the middle of a 'vampire moment'," he smirked, "I like when you drink from me, I love drinking from you," his voice dropped an octave and grew husky. "I like the way your mouth feels on me, I like the way your cock feels in my mouth, like the way you taste, like the way you fuck me, like the way," Sam moved to push Dean back onto the bed, straddling his hips as he did, leaning over him, a wicked glint in his eye as he reached for the plate of pie, "And I like the way you taste with pie on you," he said, chuckling as he drizzled pie juice on Dean's bare chest.

"I planned to eat it off your mouth," Dean pouted, unable to hide his body's reaction to Sam sitting on him. He reached out, hands sliding up and down Sam's jean clad thighs. When Sam moved on top of him, just so, he grit his teeth. "You trying to give me a 'vampire moment?'"

Sam leaned down, a grin pulling at his lips as his own eyes darkened slightly. Kissing Dean's chest where he had drizzled the bright red pie syrup, Sam coated his lips with it, before pulling his head up a little to look at Dean, "Complaining, if I am?" he asked him softly, "Now, lick." he told Dean, leaning his face over Dean's, his lips inches away, so Dean could have what he wanted. "Lick it off there, and maybe we'll find other places for you to lick clean."

Groaning, Dean gripped Sam's face and dragged him lower, making sure he could neither move away, not closer as he stretched his tongue out and slowly licked the sticky stuff off him. It was an acquired taste, but it tasted ten times better in conjunction with Sam’s taste. "You make a damned good 'plate.'" Licking again, he dodged Sam's tongue, grinning at the frustrated sound he made. "Hungry, Sam. You wore me out." Amazing how human he could sound now that he had an _almost human_ boyfriend.

Despite his cock straining against the damn jeans he had yet to remove and despite the teasing way Dean was licking him clean, Sam managed a chuckle as he looked down at his 'vampire _everything_ ', "True.. you _are_ old. I forgot," he teased, laughing louder at the look Dean shot him.

"I'll show you old," Dean growled, wrestling him down and pouncing over him. "You can apologize anytime..." he was working Sam's zipper, and there was a glint in his eyes that said he'd have his way, or they would both know the meaning of torture... vampire style.

The sound of Sam's shrieking and laughter filled the downstairs as upstairs two vampire lovers wrestled, only to be followed by the sounds of their loving and cherry pie sauce lickin’.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Epilogue** _

 

[Five Years Later]

 

Following behind John Winchester's truck as they convoyed out of the backwoods and headed for home, Dean Cullen was in a remarkably good mood despite the fact he was riding as a Goddamned passenger in Sam's ancient boat of a car. In the habit of swapping his own cars out for new ones every year, he couldn't understand Sam's affinity for the old clunker. "If we were in my car, and I was driving, we'd be home in half the time," he couldn't help but point out.

Dean stared out the front window at the back of John's head. "He's serious about moving to Forks. Not retiring, but using it as his base of operations." Then Dean smiled. "He thinks I'm the best thing that ever happened to you." Glancing at Sam's silhouette, he added, "and that I'm extremely handsome, gentlemanly, very good for you, and that you're damned lucky to have me. And did I mention freakin' awesome?"

Sam licked his lips, eyes on the road, as he frowned slightly and reached for the radio, "You're daydreaming again," he stated flatly, before glancing over at Dean with a smirk, "and this time, about my Dad." He clicked the radio on as loud as it would go as he looked back out the windshield chuckling as AC/DC blared from the speakers.

Making a face, both at the comment and the loud music, Dean immediately lowered it. "You'd think you still had lame human hearing." A few minutes later, he grinned. "You happy now? It's over."

Sam looked over at Dean, a grin on his face, "Yeah, it's good." He glanced back at the road, "Not that _my_ teaching you to shoot didn't come in handy," his grin grew wider, as he kept his eyes on the road.

"All those hours," Dean rolled his eyes. "And you thought I wasn't paying attention." Even vamped, Sam insisted on keeping up with his shooting, but it was Dean who had to suffer, listening to him go on and on with instructions. "Did you see how your dad pocketed the colt again? Like I'm going to lose it or something." What really stuck in his mind was the quiet gratitude he saw in John's eyes as he looked over at his son, now free of that yellow eyed demon who'd made their lives hell.

Sam chuckled, "He probably doesn't want you taking anything else from him", he teased as he reached over with a free hand and ran a finger over Dean's cheek then held it up so Dean could see, "You're dirtier than my car, dude!" Replacing his hand on the wheel and leaning the other against the door, Sam sat back in the seat, "Wow.." he shook his head, "It's... _over_..." he looked back at Dean, " _Now_ what am I gonna spend all my spare time thinking about!?"

Wiping his own face, Dean realized he must be as dirty as Sam. That thought had never occurred to him. "Oh, I dunno." Sliding down in the chair, he hooked his thumb in his waistband. "We can be creative. That's IF you don't insist on us staying over at Cathleen's. The thought of your dad hearing us makes me go... soft." Biting his lip, he gave Sam a sly look.

Sam frowned. "Dude!" he looked like he was ready to vomit, "Thanks for that! I think I just went permanently soft... like _forever!_ Sam gave a visible shudder, "It's about as bad as the idea of hearing your parents..." Sam paused and licked his lips as he thought of Carlisle and Esme. "Uh, I mean, well, that's not the same, they aren't... I mean..." Sam frowned and huffed softly, "Yeah, well, at least your mom's a babe! My dad's just..." Sam shuddered again.

"You think she's a babe?" There was a hint of _something_ in Dean's voice, as he gave _his_ Sam a hard stare.

Sam quirked a brow, "You don't?" he shrugged, "I mean, she's not a MILF or anything, but, yeah, she's hot for a mom." He looked back at the road again, "Like your sister, Rosalie, she's hot too," he shrugged, "And Alice." he looked back at Dean, "Oh, like you never noticed this!" he huffed and shook his head, as he looked back at the road. "He thinks I'm naive," he grumbled to himself.

"I just..." he looked out the window and blew out a breath.

Sam raised a brow as he looked back at Dean, "Just what? What are _you_ thinking?"

"That I wish you weren't _thinking_ of them. Anyone. Anyone else," he eventually go out. Yeah, he knew it was dumb. Not like Sam had gone blind to the rest of the world once they'd hooked up. "Never mind."

Sam frowned at him. "I'm not _thinking_ of them, I just..." he huffed and looked back at the road. Slowly a smirk tugged at his lips. "You're jealous," he teased, chuckling softly, "Aw, it's cute. My point _was_ , don't mention sex and my dad in the same sentence is all. It's just creepy."

"Don't mention my sis... anyone, and 'babe' or 'hot' in the same sentence, and you've got a deal." Dean laughed at himself.

Sam frowned as he glanced at Dean, "Not _anyone_?" he frowned and shook his head, "Nah, I can't make that deal with ya, sorry." He took the turn on the road, then continued, "Cause there's this one guy, he's totally hot _and_ a babe. Just thinkin' about him makes me hard as hell half the time." Sam groaned deep in his throat as he looked over at Dean.

"Sam." The warning died in Dean's throat the instant he saw the look on Sam's face. Fuck. "You hard now, Sammy?" he whispered, already reaching for Sam's zipper. "Try to keep your mind on driving, but if we wreck it... I'll get you real wheels." A smug grin on his face, Dean managed to free Sam's cock and lowered his mouth over it, sucking him hard and pulling off. "This all for me?" Licking him from base to tip, he took Sam in his mouth again, his head bobbing up and down, his hand on Sam's tensed thigh muscles.

Sam smiled as he bit his lip, scooting down in the seat a little. "If I wreck it," Sam jerked slightly as Dean freed his hard cock, glancing down in time to see Dean take him into his mouth. "My - he," he nodded toward his dad's truck in front of them, "he'll cut my friggin head of," he told Dean between moans and gasps.

"Oh God yeah, Dean, only for you." Sam groaned softly, knuckles of the hand on the steering wheel turning white as his grip tightened. Sam's free hand went to Dean's hair, threading his fingers into the soft strands without pushing Dean down or forcing more, just holding, feeling. The tense muscles in Sam's thigh rippled and shifted as he moved his leg slightly, tried to adjust to help Dean get better access. As his eyes started to close, he forced them open, forced himself to focus on the road. "You're right," Sam agreed, swallowing, "We should have taken your car."

Oh, he was so gonna make Sam regret implying it would be better to wreck his car than the Impala. Dean pressed the flat of his tongue against Sam's shaft, dragging it up and down, using it to apply more pressure at just the right moments. Sam might not know it, but the way his heart was beating out of control was affecting Dean. They'd just had a bad ass fight, come out winning, and wasn't that type of thing supposed to end with a bang of a different kind? Redoubling his efforts, he sucked him just right, moving his head up and down, sheathing Sam's cock completely. By the time Sam was shoving his head down harder and faster, Dean's eyes had gone completely dark. Need slammed into him, just like that. "Sammy, vampire moment.. don't move."

Sam's breathing was heavier, lips parted as he tried to remember that the speed limit was _not_ 20mph, _nor_ was it 120mph. He glanced down at Dean groaning, his hips moving slightly, bucking up toward Dean as much as he could. A strained half laugh escaped him, "Vampire..." Sam looked back up at the road, his eyes having gone dark, "Dean..." he moaned his name, turned the wheel and the car went off the road, over a few bumps then stopped as Sam put it in park. "Backseat."

"Your dad?" Even as he asked, Dean was out the door and opening the back one.

Sam turned off the car, exiting it just after Dean, opening the back one almost in unison with Dean. Sam shook his head, took in a breath, "He's old, not stupid, he'll figure it out."

Dean untucked his shirt and started on his jeans, eyes locked with Sam's now equally dark cross the rooftop, needing him so fucking back. "Hurry," a low snarl broke out of him as he got inside

Sam tossed his shirt onto the back floorboard as he stood outside the car. "He might not _like_ it," Sam grinned, "but he'll figure it out," he said, hands on the waistband of his jeans, pushing them down as he toed off his boots. Once his boots and jeans were off, Sam glanced over his shoulder as a car went by. He looked back at Dean with a smirk before diving into the backseat, clad in only his boxers.

"Get over here." Both legs on the back seat, Dean dragged Sam up over him, in an awkward straddle. "You need an even bigger car," he muttered, letting his hand rove down Sam's muscled back, to his ass, lifting his hips at the same time and closing his eyes at the jolt of heat that went through him. "Lift up..." when Sam did, Dean pulled his shorts down to mid thigh, and shoved his own jeans down. Now they were skin to skin. Gripping Sam's hips, he started to push and pull, lifting is head up just as Sam brought his mouth down over his.

Their bodies slid and rubbed together as deep groans filled the air around them. Harder, faster, tongues colliding, tangling, stroking each other. "That's it..." Dean's head banged against the door, and for his sake, he hoped he didn't dent it, because unless he kept Sam in a 'state of hard,' he was bound to notice and bitch about it. "Harder..."

Sam released his hold on the side of the backseat. One hand was tucked up under Dean's shoulder and he moved the other to match it. He started pushing and pulling opposite Dean's push/pull rhythm as his fingers gripped Dean's shoulders tightly, a groan sounding deep in his throat. Sam closed his eyes, licked his lips as he moved his hips, sliding, grinding against Dean, hard and fast. His breaths panted out, eyes opening to look down at Dean. Licking his lips he lowered his head, slanted his mouth to Dean's, kissing him hard, tongues tangling before Sam drew Dean's tongue into his mouth, sucking, stroking it, giving his tongue a mini-blowjob. Heat began to pool low in his belly.

Dean was grinding up against Sam like a madman, all other thoughts driven out of his mind, leaving room only for Sam's scent, his sounds, his feel... his taste. That was all Dean cared about as he brought them home, jerking up in sharp hard thrusts as he gave a strangled cry, his fingers digging into Sam so hard it was lucky his lover was vampire.

Sam gasped, his body tense as he moved against Dean hard, movements gone erratic. Sam grit his teeth, before his lips parted, "Dean!!!" he bucked against Dean, fingers digging into his shoulders as he came.

Breathing heavily, Sam slowly released his grip on Dean's shoulders, letting his legs straighten slowly, his feet hitting the door long before his long legs were fully extended. Looking back over his shoulder, he used his foot to kick the handle upward and pushed with his other foot, making the back door swing open.

Looking back at Dean with a smug smile, he slowly closed his eyes and laid his head down on Dean's shoulder as he scooted back slightly. "Before you ask, it was a pagan demi-god. Two of them, actually. I was in the backseat, tied up and had to make a break for it. After working at it, I figured out how to open the door with my feet," he muttered.

"Seriously? You're so gonna tell me more about it tonight." Tightening his hold, even though he knew they needed to leave, he looked down and kissed Sam again. "Alright Juliet, time to get going." Smacking Sam’s butt, he tried to keep a straight face. "And may I say thou bangeth real well."

Sam slowly raised his head and looked at Dean, fighting back the laugh that was about to bust out. Unable to hold back he laughed shaking his head, "Dude! Five years! It's been _FIVE YEARS_." he shook his head, slowly pulling away from Dean, only to pause, golden hazel gazing into green-gold, "By heaven, I love thee better than myself," he smirked then, "If you're gonna do it, do it right." he said, pulling to his feet outside the car door and tugging up his boxers.

Staring at him for a full moment, Dean got his clothes together, and scooted out the same side Sam had exited from. "How do I love thee, let me... aw, fuck it. I'm no good with that old shit. Here's what I'm good at." With that, he gripped Sam's shirt, dragged him up close, and kissed the living daylights out of him. The fact that he knew John Winchester had turned around and was headed back... that was just gravy.

The End

(We have an “insert scene,” some Craving music and art, and a poll regarding another Twilight/SPN cross over, below... so keep reading)

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_The following is a “missing scene” written for who wanted to see the first meeting between Sam/Dean and Bella/Edward. It would have taken place some time quite soon after the last chapter when Sam/Dean got fully together (Chapter 16)._

School had been hard. No, Dean had been hard all day at school. Dammit, after what Sam whispered in his ear before heading off to first period, all Dean could think about was his idea. He’d tried ten ways from Sunday to get Sam to cut class and just get the hell to their room, get their clothes off and go at it. But no... Sam didn’t want too many absences in his record...what the hell?

After school, Dean had the car and ready and took off the instant Sam got inside. “That’s just wrong Sam, putting something in my mind like that,” he said, trying not to look at his mate, afraid he’d pull over and have his way right here in the middle of town.

Sam tried to hide the snicker that threatened to bubble out of him as he looked out his side window. "I don't know what you mean, Dean..." he turned his head and looked over at him, "Are you referring to my suggestion to sex it up in the bathtub?" he shrugged, "It's just a variation on the shower thing. Of course, being totally submerged in the warm water and bubbles.. skin slip-sliding together.. that might be a little different." The corners of his mouth quirked up into a teasing grin, golden hazel eyes darkening slightly as he spoke.

Dean groaned. "Fuck Sam..." Slamming his foot down on the pedal as he felt his eyes go dark, he practically flew through the streets at four times the speed limit, even entering the lane meant for oncoming traffic. His whitened knuckles stood out on the steering wheel as brought the car to a screeching halt in front of his house and threw the door open. "Come on Sam, upstairs." Sensing thoughts from the house, he frowned, "no stopping to chat, either."

Sam chuckled as he pulled from the car, heading toward the house. "Think we should grab some pie on our way up? You could clean it off me with your tongue before we get in the tub," he smirked, scurrying toward the door before Dean could grab him.

"Oh I hate you," Dean groaned. "Straight up, Sam... window," he shouted, frustrated when Sam ignored him and headed in the front door. Dammit. Sometimes it would make a nice change if Sam listened to him.

 

Edward gracefully walked from the living room couch to the door, opening it just as Sam reached for the handle. Bella was at his side, but hiding slightly behind him. Smirking slightly, he put his hand out. "I thought we'd better catch you at the door before you head for the bath. I'm Edward. Welcome to the family. And this is Bella," he gave her a loving smile.

Sam's laughter died on his tongue, though his smile remained as he looked at the vampire before him. He took Edward's hand, shaking it as he glanced from him to the girl nearly hiding behind him. "So, you're Bella and Edward, I've heard a lot about you." Sam looked over at Dean as he stepped up beside him. "What is it with your family? Is it a prerequisite for a Cullen that they have to be hot?" Sam asked him, quirking a brow and flashing a teasing smile.

Dean's eyes flashed. "Ed, Bel..."

"Dean, he's just kidding. Well, not really, he does think all of us are hot but right now he's only interested in ..." He raised a hand up, as if trying to defend himself from Sam's thoughts.

"What's he thinking?" Dean asked, excitement in his tone.

Sam's eyes widened slightly before narrowing at Edward, "Are you reading... get out of my head, dude! I feel violated!"

Bella chuckled softly behind Edward, bringing Sam's attention to her. "Read her head, not mine!" Sam looked at Dean, "Tell him!"

Dean shook his head. "Bad request. She wants to know what you're thinking, Sam, and what has Edward all uptight."

"I'm not uptight." Taking Bella's hand, Edward started walking her to the living room, muttering. "I thought Dean had a one track mind... looks like his mate does too."

"Yeah, Dean does have a one track mind," Dean echoed his agreement, pulling Sam up against him and giving him a hard kiss. "Told ya window would have been better." Wishing his brother had better timing, he put his hand behind Sam's back and walked him to the living room.

"You don't look much like us... other than the hot factor," Edward added the jibe, barely glancing at Dean. Unfortunately, they both knew he was trying to tease his brother.

"If we had gone through the window, we couldn't get the pie and...." Sam's attention went to Edward, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, "So, you think I'm hot too, huh?" He teased, glancing at Dean and lacing his fingers with him, "Better watch this one, he's a flirt." 

Edward started to smile but then lost it as he stared at Sam. "No... that's not why my hair's like this." There was a glint in his eyes.

Dean started to laugh, and saw Bella's confusion. "Sam was wondering if you'd messed Edward's hair up in the middle of a passionate... ow!" He glared at Edward who'd hit him in the arm, then looked back at Bella. Her usual pale features were taking on a pink tinge. Then he glanced back to Sam. Reading him second-hand, through Edward, was the next best thing to reading him directly.

Sam shrugged, "Well, I only asked because Dean makes a mess out of _my_ hair, so..." he grinned, "I dunno how many times I had to ask Alice to get the tangles out for me."

Bella smirked as she looked over at Edward, biting her lip shyly for just a moment before blurting out, "So, it sounds to me like you need to hurry up and change me. Stop making me wait." she glanced at Sam, "Maybe afterwards we can have a contest to see who's hair gets the most messed?" her face turned an even deeper shade of red as she spoke.

Edward tensed and looked real uncomfortable as he exchanged looks with Dean.

 _I think we'd better keep Bella and Sam apart... I have a feeling that united they'll make our lives too exciting... dangerous._ Dean mentally told Edward, knowing his brother's issues with making her into a vampire as well as all of their fears of losing control when trying to turn someone. He didn't know whether, knowing all the risks, he would ever have tried to turn Sam by choice. The fact that Sam had been dying, that he'd had no choice and no time to think about the pros and cons had made the decision easier.

Edward gave a a nod and was about to say something when his brother's next thoughts had him struggling for words.

_She's imagining messing up your hair and dude, I so don't need to imagine you naked like that._

Sam looked between Dean and Edward, quirking a brow. Looking back at Bella he huffed, "I hate it when Dean does this. Isn't it annoying? Does Edward do this to you too? Damn mind-reading vampire's anyway..." he glared between the two, "How would you two like it if Bella and I did something you two couldn't do?" he paused, thought about it a minute, "Like eat!" he grinned wide, "Hey Bella, wanna play my favorite game? Make the vampire taste nasty ass food."

"Ugh... why does it always come down to food with you? What self respecting vampire... excuse me... _Hempire***_... eats all the damn time and tries to force it on others?" He shot a look toward Edward. "Does she make you try stuff?"

Sam snickered, "Oh you _like_ when I make you try things." he gave Dean a meaningful look as he thought about the 'stuff' they had been planning on trying before they had been interrupted. Images flashing in his mind of a soapy wet naked Dean with him in the bathtub, as they sloshed water over the side during their 'trying stuff'.

Bella was chuckling softly, shaking her head. "No, I've never forced Edward to try anything... maybe I should though..."

The combination of Sam's sexual thoughts and Bella's soft comment about forcing him to try stuff had Edward shooting up off the sofa, eyes darkening. "Dean, keep your hempire under control... dammit. And what the hell is a _hempire?_ Oh that... whatever."

Dean grinned at his very own human/demon/vampire. "You're torturing him with your thoughts, he's seeing Bella in the tub--"

"Dean!" Putting his hand out, Edward called Bella. "We need to go for a drive... let them work their lust... heat off."

Alice stepped inside the room. "Oh, that never happens. One of them starts all over again." Skipping over to Bella, she gave her a hug.

Sam grinned at Edward, "Webcams, my friend. I highly recommend webcams," he told him with a nod, glancing toward Alice as she walked in. "We're not _that_ bad..." He turned to Dean, "Are we?" Before Dean answered, he was tugging on Dean’s hand and moving them toward the stairs. "I want to make you try things." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Catch you guys later," was Dean's immediate response to the others as he let Sam drag him up the stairs, thoughts of water and Sam filling his head and making it hard for him to think of anything else.

Reading Alice's thoughts of just how bad his brother and Sam were, Edward knew the drive had been a good idea. He brought Bella's jacket to her, and saw the look in her eyes. Maybe this trip to Forks had not been such a good idea. She was going to bring up getting vamped again. He knew it. Feared it.

Bella took her jacket, her eyes never leaving Edward’s face. Her jaw was set in a stubborn line, rivaling even Sam’s stubborn expressions. She was going to talk Edward into turning her. She'd appeal to him, make him see things her way... and if all else failed, there was always talking about trying new things...

The end


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